^OWW- 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


^■"  °^  BOOKS 


^■40  FACIFI 


C  '^V'cNtJi 


TINY    LUTTRELL 


BY 

ERNEST  WILLIAM  HORNUNG 

AUTHOR  OF    "a  BRIDE  FROM  THE  BUSH,"    "UNDER  TWO  SKIES,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
STREET  &  SMITH,  Publishers 

238  William  Street 


Copyright,  1893, 
By  CASSELL  PUBLISHING  CO. 

Copyright,   1900, 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 


COT>ITENTS. 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 


I.  The  Coming  of  Tiny, i 

II.  Swift  of  Wallandoon,       ,        .        .        .        .  21 

III.  The  Tail  of  the  Season, 44 

IV.  Ruth  and  Christina, 63 

V.  EssiNGHAM  Rectory, 84 

VI.  A  Matter  of  Ancient  History,        .        .        .  102 

VII.  The  Shadow  of  the  Hall, 116 

VIII.  Countess  Dromard  at  Home,    ....  133 

IX.  Mother  and  Son, 148 

X.  A  Threatening  Dawn, 162 

XL  In  the  Ladies'  Tent, 176 

XII.  Ordeal  by  Battle, ig3 

XIII.  Her  Hour  of  Triumph, 213 

XIV.  A  Cycle  of  Moods, 233 

XV.  The  Invisible  Ideal, 248 

XVI.  Foreign  Soil, 263 

XVII.  The  High  Seas, 2S6 

XVIII.  The  Third  Time  of  Asking,      ....  306 

XIX.  Counsel's  Opinion, 317 

XX.  In  Honor  Bound,        .....  327 

XXI.  A  Deaf  Ear, .  339 

XXIL    SUMMUM   BONUM,    ....                                 ,  348 


1673038 


TINY  LUTTRELL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    COMING    OF    TINY. 

Swift  of  Wallandoon  was  visibly  distraught. 
He  had  driven  over  to  the  township  in  the 
heat  of  the  afternoon  to  meet  the  coach.  The 
coach  was  just  in  sight,  which  meant  that  it 
could  not  arrive  for  at -least  half  an  hour.  Yet 
nothing  would  induce  Swift  to  wait  quietly  in 
the  hotel  veranda  ;  he  paid  no  sort  of  atten- 
tion to  the  publican  who  pressed  him  to  do  so. 
The  iron  roofs  of  the  little  township  crackled 
in  the  sun  with  a  sound  as  of  distant  musketry  ; 
their  sharp-edged  shadows  lay  on  the  sand  like 
sheets  of  zinc  that  might  be  lifted  up  in  one 
piece ;  and  a  hot  wind  in  full  blast  played 
steadily  upon  Swift's  neck  and  ears.  He  had 
pulled  up  in  the  shade,  and  was  leaning  for- 
ward, with  his  wide-awake  tilted  over  his  nose, 
and  his  eyes  on  a  cloud  of  dust  between  the 


z  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

bellying  sand-hills  and  the  dark  blue  sky.  The 
cloud  advanced,  revealing  from  time  to  time 
a  growing  speck.  That  speck  was  the  coacli 
which  Swift  had  come  to  meet. 

He  was  a  young  man  with  broad  shoulders 
and  good  arms,  and  a  general  air  of  smartness 
and  alacrity  about  which  there  could  be  no 
mistake.  He  had  dark  hair  and  a  fair  mus- 
tache ;  his  eye  was  brown  and  alert  ;  and  much 
wind  and  sun  had  reddened  a  face  that  com- 
monly gave  the  impression  of  complete  capa- 
bility with  a  sufficiency  of  force.  This  after- 
noon, however,  Swift  lacked  the  confident 
look  of  the  thoroughly  capable  young  man. 
And  he  was  even  younger  than  he  looked  ;  he 
was  young  enough  to  fancy  that  the  owner 
of  Wallandoon,  who  was  a  passenger  by  the 
approaching  coach,  had  traveled  five  hundred 
miles  expressly  to  deprive  John  Swift  of  the 
fine  position  to  which  recent  good  luck  had 
promoted  him. 

He  could  think  of  nothinoelse  to  brinof  Mr. 
Luttrell  all  the  way  from  Melbourne  at  the 
time  of  year  wlien  a  sheep  station  causes  least 
anxiety.  The  month  was  April,  there  had 
been  a  fair  rainfall  since  Christmas,  and  only 
in  his  last  letter  Mr.  Luttrell  had  told  Swift 


THE   COMING  OF    TINY.  3 

that  all  he  need  do  for  the  present  was  to  take 
care  of  the  fences  and  let  the  sheep  take  care 
of  themselves.  The  next  news  was  a  telegram 
to  the  effect  that  Mr,  Luttrell  was  coming  up 
country  to  see  for  himself  how  things  were 
i:;oing  at  Wallandoon.  Having  stepped  into 
the  managership  by  an  accident,  and  even  so 
merely  as  a  trial  man,  young  Swift  at  once 
made  sure  that  his  trial  was  at  an  end.  It  did 
not  strike  him  that  in  spite  of  his  youth  he 
was  the  ideal  person  for  the  post.  Yet  this 
was  obvious.  He  had  five  years'  experience 
of  the  station  he  w^as  to  manage.  The  like 
merit  is  not  often  in  the  market.  Swift 
seemed  to  forget  that.  Neither  did  he  take 
comfort  from  the  fact  that  Mr.  Luttrell  was  an 
old  friend  of  his  family  in  Victoria,  and  hitherto 
his  own  highly  satisfied  employer.  Hitherto, 
or  until  the  last  three  months,  he  had  not  tried 
to  manacre  Mr.  Luttrell's  station.  If  he  had 
failed  in  that  time  to  satisfy  its  owner,  then 
he  would  at  once  qo  elsewhere  ;  but  for  many 
things  he  wished  most  keenly  to  stay  at  Wal- 
landoon ;  and  he  was  thinking  of  these  things 
now,  while  the  coach  o^rew  before  his  eves. 

Of  his  five  years   on   Wallandoon  the  last 
two  had   been   infinitely   less  enjoyable   than 


4  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  three  that  had  gone  before.  There  was 
a  simple  reason  for  the  difference.  Until  two 
years  ago  Mr.  Luttrell  had  himself  managed 
the  station,  and  had  lived  there  with  his  wife 
and  family.  That  had  answered  fairly  well 
while  the  family  were  young,  thanks  to  a  com- 
petent governess  for  the  girls.  But  when  the 
girls  grew  up  it  became  time  to  make  a  change. 
The  squatter  was  a  wealthy  man,  and  he  could 
perfectly  well  afford  the  substantial  house 
which  he  had  already  built  for  himself  in 
a  Melbourne  suburb.  The  social  splashing  of 
his  wife  and  daughters  after  their  long  seclu- 
sion in  the  wilderness  was  also  easily  within 
his  means,  if  not  entirely  to  his  liking  ;  but 
he  was  a  mild  man  married  to  a  weak  woman  ; 
and  he  happened  to  be  bent  on  a  little  splash 
on  his  own  account  in  politics.  Choosing  out 
of  man}'^  applicants  the  best  possible  manager 
for  Wallandoon,  the  squatter  presently  entered 
the  Victorian  legislature,  and  embraced  the 
new  interests  so  heartily  that  he  was  nearly 
tv/o  years  in  discovering  his  best  possible 
manager  to  be  both  a  failure  and  a  fraud. 

It  was  this  discovery  that  had  given  Swift 
an  opening  whose  very  splendor  accounted 
for   his  present  doubts  and   fears.      Had   his 


THE    COMING   OF    TINY-  5 

chance  been  spoilt  by  Herbert  Luttrell,  who 
had  lately  been  on  Wallandoon  as  Swift's 
overseer,  for  some  ten  days  only,  when  the 
two  young  fellows  had  failed  to  pull  together? 
This  was  not  likely,  for  Herbert  at  his  worst 
was  an  honest  ruffian,  who  had  taken  the 
whole  blame  (indeed  it  was  no  more  than  his 
share)  of  that  fiasco.  Swift,  however,  could 
think  of  nothiiiof  else  ;  nor  was  there  time  ; 
for  now  tlie  coach  was  so  close  that  the  crack 
of  the  driver's  whip  was  plainly  heard,  and 
above  the  cluster  of  heads  on  the  box  a  whiue 
handkerchief  fluttered  against  the  sky. 

The  publican  whom  Swift  liad  snubbed 
addressed  another  remark  to  him  from  the 
veranda  : 

"  There's  a  petticoat  on  board." 

"  So  I  see." 

The  coach  came  nearer. 

"  She's  your  boss's  daughter,"  affirmed  the 
publican—"  the  best  of  'em." 

"  So  you're  cracking  !  " 

"  Well,  wait  a  minute.     What  nov/?" 

Swift  prolonged  the  minute.  "  You're  right," 
he  said,  hastily  tying  his  reins  to  the  brake. 

"  I  am  so." 

"  Heaven  help  me  !"    niuttered  Swift  as  he 


6  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

jumped  to  the  ground.  "  There's  nothing 
ready  for  her.     They  might  have  told  one  !" 

A  moment  later  five  heaving  horses  stood 
sweating  in  the  sun,  and  Swift,  reaching  up  his 
hand,  received  from  a  gray-bearded  gentleman 
on  the  box  seat  a  grip  from  which  his  doubts 
and  fears  should  have  died  on  the  spot.  If 
the)^  did,  however,  it  was  only  to  make  way 
for  a  new  and  unlooked-for  anxiety,  for  little 
Miss  Luttrell  was  smiling  dov/n  at  him  through 
a  brown  gauze  veil,  as  she  poked  away  the 
handkerchief  she  had  waved,  leaving  a  corner 
showing  against  her  dark  brown  jacket  ;  and 
how  she  was  to  be  made  comfortable  at  the 
homestead,  all  in  a  minute,  Swift  did  not  know. 

"  She  insisted  on  coming,"  said  Mr.  Luttrell, 
with  a  smile.  "  Is  it  any  good  her  getting 
down  ?  " 

"  Can  you  take  me  in  ?  "  asked  the  girl. 

"  We'll  do  our  best,"  said  Swift,  holding  the 
ladder  for  her  descent 

Her  shoes  made  a  daintier  imprint  in  the 
sand  than  it  had  known  for  two  wliole  years. 
She  smiled  as  she  gave  her  hand  to  Swift ;  it 
was  small,  too,  and  Swift  had  not  touched  a 
lady's  hand  for  many  months.  There  was 
very  little  of  her  altogether,  but  the  little  was 


THE   COMING  OF   TINY.  7 

entirely  pleasing.  Embarrassed  though  he 
was,  Swift  was  more  than  pleased  to  see  the 
young  girl  again,  and  her  smiles  that  struggled 
through  the  brown  gauze  like  sunshine  through 
a  mist.  She  had  not  worn  gauze  veils  two 
years  ago  ;  and  two  years  ago  she  had  been 
content  with  fare  that  would  scarcely  please 
her  to-day,  while  naturally  the  living  at  the 
station  was  rougher  nov/  than  in  the  days  of 
the  ladies.  It  was  all  very  well  for  her  to 
smile.  She  oueht  never  to  have  come  without 
a  word  of  warning.  Swift  felt  responsible  and 
aao;rieved. 

He  helped  Mr.  Luttrell  to  carry  their  bag- 
gage from  the  coach  to  the  buggy  drawn  up 
in  the  shade.  Miss  Luttrell  went  to  the 
horses'  heads  and  stroked  their  noses  ;  they 
were  Bushman  and  Brownlock,  the  old  safe 
pair  she  had  many  a  time  driven  herself.  In 
a  moment  she  was  bidden  to  jump  up.  There 
had  been  very  little  luggage  to  transfer.  The 
most  cumbrous  piece  was  a  hamper,  of  which 
Swift  formed  expectations  that  were  speed- 
ily confirmed.  For  Miss  Luttrell  remarked, 
pointing  to  the  hamper  as  she  took  her 
seat  : 

"  At  least  we  have  brought  our  own  rations  ; 


8  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

but  I  am  afraid  they  will  make  you  horribly 
uncomfortable  behind  there?" 

Swift  was  on  the  back  seat.  "  Not  a  bit," 
he  answered ;  "  I  was  much  more  uncomfort- 
able until  I  saw  the  hamper." 

"Don't  you  worry  about  us,  Jack,"  said 
Mr.  Luttrell  as  they  drove  off.  "  Whatever 
you  do,  don't  worry  about  Tiny.  Give  her 
travelers'  rations  and  send  her  to  the  travel- 
ers' hut.  That's  all  she  deserves,  when  she 
wasn't  on  the  way-bill.  She  insisted  on  com- 
ing at  the  last  moment ;  I  told  her  it  wasn't 
fair." 

"  But  it's  very  jolly,"  said  Swift  gallantly. 

"  It  was  just  like  her,"  Mr.  Luttrell 
chuckled  ;  "  she's  as  unreliable  as  ever." 

The  girl  had  been  looking  radiantly  about 
her  as  they  drove  along  the  single  broad, 
straggling  street  of  the  township.  She  now 
turned  her  head  to  Swift,  and  her  eyes  shot 
through  her  veil  in  a  smile.  That  abominable 
veil  went  right  over  her  broad-brimmed  hat, 
and  was  gathered  in  and  made  fast  at  the 
neck.  Swift  could  have  torn  it  from  her  head; 
he  had  not  seen  a  lady  smile  for  months. 
Also,  he  was  beo;innincr  to  make  the  astonish- 
ing  discovery  that  somehow  she  was  altered, 


THE   COMING   OF   TINY.  9 

and  he  was  curious  to  see  how  much,  which 
was  impossible  through  the  gauze. 

"Is  that  true?"  he  asked  her.  He  had 
known  her  for  five  years. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  she  returned  carelessly ; 
and  immediately  her  sparkling  eyes  wandered. 
"  There's  old  Mackenzie  in  the  post  office 
veranda.  He  was  a  detestable  old  man,  but 
I  must  wave  to  him ;  it's  so  good  to  be 
back ! " 

"  But  you  own  to  being  unreliable  ? "  per- 
sisted Swift. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Miss  Luttrell  said,  tossing 
the  words  to  him  over  her  shoulder,  because 
her  attention  was  not  for  the  manager,  "is 
it  so  very  dreadful  if  I  am  ?  What's  the  good 
of  being  reliable  ?  It's  much  more  amusing 
to  take  people  by  surprise.  Your  face  was 
worth  the  journey  when  you  saw  me  on  the 
coach  !  But  you  see  I  haven't  surprised  Mac- 
kenzie ;  he  doesn't  look  the  least  impressed  ; 
I  dare  say  he  thinks  it  was  last  week  we  all 
went  away.     I  hate  him  !  " 

"  Here  are  the  police  barracks,"  said  Swift, 
seeing  that  all  her  interest  was  in  the  old 
landmarks  ;  "  we  have  a  new  sergeant  since 
you  left." 


10  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  If  hes  In  his  veranda  I  shall  shout  out 
to  him  who  I  am,  and  how  long  I  have  been 
away,  and  how  good  it  is  to  get  back." 

"She's  quite  capable  of  doing  it,"  Mr.  Lut- 
trell  chimed  in,  chuckling  afresh;  "there's 
never  any  knowing  what  she'll  do  next." 

But  the  barracks  veranda  was  empty,  and 
it  was  the  last  of  the  township  buildings. 
There  was  now  nothinor  ahead  but  the  rim  of 
scrub,  beyond  which,  among  the  sand-hills, 
sweltered  the  homestead  of  Wallandoon. 

"  I've  come  back  with  a  nice  character,  have 
I  not?"  the  girl  now  remarked,  turning  to 
Swift  with  another  smile. 

"You  must  have  earned  it;  I  can  quite 
believe  that  you  have,"  laughed  Swift.  He 
had  known  her  in  short  dresses. 

"Ha!  ha!  You  see  he  remembers  all 
about  you,  my  dear." 

"  Do  you,  Jack  ?"  the  girl  said. 

"Do  I  not !"  said  Jack. 

And  he  said  no  more.  He  was  grateful  to 
her  for  addressing  him,  though  only  once,  by 
his  Christian  name.  He  had  been  intimate 
with  the  v/hole  family,  and  it  seemed  both 
sensible  and  pleasant  to  resume  a  friendly 
footing  from  the  first.      He  would  have  called 


THE    COMING  OF    TINY.  II 

the  girl  by  her  Christian  name  too,  only  this 
was  so  seldom  heard  among  her  own  people. 
Tiny  she  was  by  nature,  and  Tiny  she  had 
been  by  name  also,  from  her  cradle.  Certainly 
she  had  been  Tiny  to  Swift  two  years  ago, 
and  already  she  had  called  him  Jack  ;  but  he 
saw  in  neither  circumstance  any  reason  why 
she  should  be  Tiny  to  him  still.  It  was 
different  from  a  proper  name.  Her  proper 
name  was  Christina,  but  unreliable  though 
she  confessedly  was,  she  might  perhaps  be 
relied  upon  to  jeer  if  he  came  out  with  that. 
And  he  would  not  call  her  "  Miss  Luttrell." 
He  thouofht  about  it  and  orrew  silent ;  but  this 
was  because  his  thouofhts  had  orlided  from  the 
(jirl's  name  to  the  srirl  herself. 

She  had  surprised  him  in  more  ways  than 
one — in  so  many  ways  that  already  he  stood 
almost  in  awe  of  the  little  person  whom  for- 
merly he  had  known  so  well.  Christina  had 
changed,  as  it  was  only  natural  that  she  should 
have  changed  ;  but  because  we  are  prone  to 
picture  our  friends  as  last  we  saw  them,  no 
matter  how  long  ago,  not  less  natural  was 
Swift's  surprise.  It  was  unreasoning,  how- 
ever, and  not  the  kind  of  surprise  to  last.  In 
a  few  minutes  his  wonder  was  that  Christina 


12  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

had  changed  so  little.  To  look  at  her  she 
had  scarcely  changed  at  all.  A  certain  finality 
of  line  was  perceptible  in  the  figure,  but  if 
anything  she  was  thinner  tlian  of  old.  As  for 
Iier  face,  what  he  could  see  of  it  through  the 
maddening  gauze  was  the  face  of  Swift's 
memorv.  Her  voice  was  a  little  different ;  in 
it  'vvas  a  ring  of  curiously  deliberate  irony, 
charmino^  at  first  as  a  mere  affectation.  A 
more  noteworthy  alteration  had  taken  place 
in  her  manner:  she  had  acquired  the  manner 
of  a  finished  young  woman  of  the  world  and 
of  society.  Already  she  had  shown  that  she 
could  become  considerably  excited  without 
forfeiting  any  of  the  grace  and  graciousness 
and  self-possession  that  were  now  conspicu- 
ously hers ;  and  before  the  homestead  was 
reached  she  exhibited  such  a  saintly  sweetness 
in  repose  as  only  enhanced  the  lambent  devil- 
try playing  about  most  of  her  looks  and  tones. 
If  Swift  was  touched  with  av/e  in  her  presence, 
that  can  hardly  be  wondered  at  in  one  who 
went  for  months  together  without  setting  eyes 
upon  a  lady. 

The  drive  was  a  lonof  one — so  lone  that 
v/hen  they  sighted  the  homestead  it  came  be- 
tween them  and  the  setting  sun.     The  main 


THE   COMING   OF    TINY.  13 

building-  with  its  long,  regular  roof  lay  against 
the  red  sky  like  some  monstrous  ingot.  The 
hot  wind  had  fallen,  and  the  station  pines 
stood  motionless,  drav/n  in  ink.  As  they 
drove  through  the  last  gate  they  could  hear 
the  dogs  barking  ;  and  Christina  distinguished 
the  voice  of  her  own  old  short-haired  collie, 
which  she  had  bequeathed  to  Swift,  who  was 
repaid  for  the  sound  with  a  final  smile.  He 
hardly  knew  why,  but  this  look  made  the  girl's 
old  self  live  to  him  as  neither  look  nor  word 
had  done  yet,  though  her  face  was  turned 
away  from  the  light,  and  the  stupid  veil  still 
fell  before  it. 

But  the  less  fascinating  side  of  her  arrival 
was  presently  engaging  his  attention.  He 
hastily  interviewed  Mrs.  Duncan,  an  elderly 
godsend  new  to  the  place  since  the  Luttrells 
had  left  it,  and  never  so  invaluable  as  now. 
Into  Mrs.  Duncan's  hands  Christina  willingly 
submitted  herself,  for  she  was  really  tired  out. 
Swift  did  not  see  her  again  until  supper, 
which  afforded  further  proofs  of  Mrs.  Duncan's 
merits  in  a  time  of  need.  Meanwhile,  Mn 
Luttrell  had  finally  disabused  him  of  the  fool- 
ish fears  he  had  entertained  while  waiting  for 
the   coach.     Swift's   youth,  which  has   shown 


14  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

itself  in  these  fears,  comes  out  also  in  the  ease 
with  which  he  now  forgot  them.  They  had 
made  him  unhappy  for  three  whole  days  ;  yet 
he  dared  to  feel  indignant  because  his  owner, 
who  had  confirmed  his  command  instead  of 
dismissing  him  from  it,  chose  to  talk  sheep  at 
the  supper  table.  Swift  seemed  burning  to 
hear  of  the  eldest  Miss  Luttrell,  who  was  Miss 
Luttrell  no  longer,  having  married  a  globe- 
trotting Londoner  during  her  first  season  and 
gone  home.  He  asked  Christina  several 
questions  about  Ruth  (whose  other  name  he 
kept  forgetting)  and  her  husband.  But  Mr. 
Luttrell  lost  no  chance  of  rounding  up  the 
conversation  and  yarding  it  in  the  sheep  pens  ; 
and  Swift  had  the  ingratitude  to  resent  this. 
Still  more  did  he  resent  the  hour  he  was 
forced  to  spend  in  the  store  after  supper, 
examining  the  books  and  discussing  recent 
results  and  future  plans  with  Mr.  Luttrell, 
while  his  subordinate,  the  storekeeper,  en- 
joyed the  society  of  Christina.  The  business 
in  the  store  was  not  only  absurdly  premature 
and  irksome  in  itself,  but  it  made  it  perfectly 
impossible  for  Sv/ift  to  hear  any  more  that 
night  of  the  late  Ruth  Luttrell,  whose  present 
name  was  not  to  be  remembered.     He  found 


THE   COMING  OF    TINY.  IS 

it  hard  to  possess  his  soul  in  patience  and  to 
answer  questions  satisfactorily  under  such 
circumstances.  For  an  hour,  indeed,  he  did 
both ;  but  the  station  store  faced  the  main 
building,  and  when  Tiny  Luttrell  appeared 
in  the  veranda  of  the  latter  with  a  lighted 
candle  in  her  hand,  he  could  do  neither  any 
longer.  Saying  candidly  that  he  must  bid  her 
good-night,  he  hurried  out  of  the  store  and 
across  the  yard,  and  was  in  time  to  catch 
Christina  at  one  end  of  the  broad  veranda 
which  entirely  surrounded  the  house. 

At  supper  Mr.  Luttrell  had  made  him  take 
the  head  of  the  table,  by  virtue  of  his  office, 
declaring  that  he  himself  was  merely  a  visitor. 
And  on  the  strength  of  that  Swift  was  per- 
haps justified  now  in  adding  a  host's  apology 
to  his  good-night.  "  I'm  afraid  you'll  have 
to  rough  it  most  awfully,"  was  what  he 
said. 

"  Far  from  it.  You  have  given  me  my  old 
room,  the  one  \ve  papered  with  Australasians, 
if  you  remember  ;  they  are  only  a  little  more 
fly-blown  than  they  used  to  be." 

This  was  Christina's  reply,  which  naturally 
led  to  more. 

"  But  it  won't  be  as  comfortable  as  it  used 


l6  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

to  be,"  said  Swift  unhappily  ;  "  and  it  won't  be 
what  you  are  accustomed  to  nowadays." 

"  Never  mind,  it's  the  dearest  little  den  in 
the  colonies  !" 

"  That  sounds  as  if  you  were  glad  to  get 
back  to  Riverina  ?  " 

"  Glad  ?     No  one  knows  how  olad  I  am." 

One  person  knew  now.  The  measure  of 
her  gladness  was  expressed  in  her  face  not  less 
than  in  her  tones,  and  it  was  no  ordinary 
m.easure.  Over  the  candle  she  held  in  her 
hand  Swift  was  enabled  for  the  first  time  to 
peer  unobstructedly  into  her  face.  He  found 
it  more  winsome  than  ever,  but  he  noticed 
some  ancient  blemishes  under  the  memorable 
eyes.  vShe  had,  in  fact,  some  freckles,  which 
he  recognized  with  the  keenest  joy.  She 
might  stoop  to  a  veil — she  had  not  sunk  to 
doctoring  her  complexion  ;  she  had  come  back 
to  the  bush  an  incomplete  worldling  after  all. 
Yet  there  was  that  in  her  face  which  made  him 
feel  a  stranger  to  her  still, 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  that  I'm 
in  a  great  funk  of  you  ?  I  can't  say  quite 
what  it  is,  but  somehow  you're  so  grand.  I 
suppose  it's  Melbourne." 

Miss   Luttrell  thanked  him,  bowing  so  low 


THE    COMING   OF    TINY.  17 

that  her  candle  shed  grease  upon  the  boards. 
"You've  altered  too,"  she  added  in  his  own 
manner ;  "  I  suppose  it's  being  boss.  But  I 
haven't  seen  enough  of  you  to  be  sure.  You 
evidently  told  off  your  new  storekeeper  to 
entertain  me  for  the  evening.  He  is  a  trying 
young  man  ;  he  zvill  talk.  But  of  course  he 
is  a  new  chum  fresh  from  home." 

"  Still  he's  a  very  good  little  chap  ;  but  it 
wasn't  my  fault  that  he  and  I  didn't  change 
places.  Mr.  Luttrell  wanted  to  speak  to  me 
about  several  things,  besides  glancing  through 
the  books  ;  I  thought  we  might  have  put  it  off, 
and  I  wondered  how  you  were  getting  on.  By 
the  way,  it  struck  me  once  or  tv^^ice  that  your 
father  was  coming  up  to  give  me  the  sack ; 
and  it's  just  the  reverse,  for  now  I'm  perma- 
nent manager." 

He  told  her  this  with  a  natural  exultation, 
but  she  did  not  seem  impressed  by  it.  "  Do  you 
know  why  he  did  come  up  ?  "  she  asked  him. 

"  Yes  ;  for  his  Easter  holidays,  chiefly." 

"  And  why  I  would  come  with  him  ?" 

"  No  ;  I'm  afraid  we  never  mentioned  you. 
I  suppose  you  came  for  a  holiday  too  ?" 

"Shall  I  tell  you  why  I  did  come?" 

"  I  wish  you  would." 


iS  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Well,  I  came  to  say  good-by  to  Wallan- 
doon,"  said  Christina  solemnly. 

"  You're  going-  to  be  married  ! "  exclaimed 
Swift,  with  conviction,  but  with  perfect  non- 
chalance. 

"Not  if   I  know  it,"- cried  Christina.     "Are 

"Not  I." 

"  But  there's  Miss  Trevor  of  Merino-ul  !" 

"  I  see  them  once  in  six  months." 

"  That  may  be  in  the  bond." 

"Well,  never  mind  Miss  Trevor  of  Merin- 
gul.  You  haven't  told  me  how  it  is  you've 
come  to  say  good-by  to  the  station,  Miss  Lut- 
trell  of  Wallandoon." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  3'ou,  seriously  :  it's  because 
I  sail  for  England  on  the  4th  of  May." 

"For  England!" 

"Yes,  and  I'm  not  at  all  keen  about  it,  I  can 
tell  you.  But  I'm  not  going  to  see  England, 
I'm  going  to  see  Ruth  ;  Australia's  worth  fifty 
Englands  any  day." 

Swift  had  recovered  from  his  astonishment. 
"  I  don't  know,"  he  said  doubtfully  ;  "most  of 
us  would  like  a  trip  home,  you  know,  just  to 
see  what  the  old  country's  like  ;  though  I  dare 
say  it  isn't  all  it's  cracked  up  to  be." 


THE   COMING   OF    TINY.  I9 

"Of  course  it  isn't.     I  hate  it !" 

*'•  But  if  you've  never  been  there?" 

"  I  judge  from  the  people — from  the  sam- 
ples they  send  out.  Your  new  storekeeper  is 
one  ;  you  meet  worse  down  in  Melbourne. 
Herbert's  going  with  me  ;  he's  going  to  Cam- 
bridge, if  they'll  have  him.  Didn't  you  know 
that  ?  But  he  could  go  alone,  and  if  it  wasn't 
for  Ruth  I  wouldn't  cross  Hobson's  Bay  to  see 
their  old  England  !" 

The  serious  bitterness  of  her  tone  struck 
him  afterward  as  nothing  less  than  grotesque  ; 
but  at  the  moment  he  was  ofazinQ^  into  her 
face,  thoughtfully  yet  without  thoughts. 

"  It's  good  for  Herbert,"  he  said  presently. 
"  I  couldn't  do  anything  with  him  here  ;  he 
offered  to  fioht  me  when  I  tried  to  make  him 
work.  I  suppose  he  will  be  three  or  four  years 
at  Cambridge  ;  but  how  long  are  you  going  to 
stay  with  Mrs.— Mrs.  Ruth?" 

"  Hov/  stupid  you  are  at  remembering  a 
simple  name  !  Do  try  to  remember  that  her 
name  is  Holland.  I  beg  your  pardon.  Jack, 
but  you  have  been  really  very  forgetful  this 
evenincr.  I  think  it  must  be  Miss  Trevor  of 
Merincrul." 

"  It  isn't.      I'm  very  sorry.      But  you  haven't 


20  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

told  me  how  long  you  think  of  staying  at 
home." 

"How  long?"  said  the  young  girl  lightly. 
"  It  may  be  for  years  and  years,  and  it  may  be 
forever  and  ever  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  strangely,  and  she  darted 
out  her  hand. 

"Good-night  again,  Jack." 

"  Good-night  again." 

What  with  the  pauses,  each  of  them  an  ex- 
cellent opportunity  for  Christina  to  depart,  it 
had  taken  them  some  ten  minutes  to  say  that 
which  ought  not  to  have  lasted  one.  But  you 
must  know  that  this  was  nothinor  to  their  last 
good-night,  on  the  self-same  spot  two  years 
before,  when  she  had  rested  in  his  arms. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SWIFT    OF    WALLANDOON. 

Christina  was  awakened  in  the  morning  by 
the  holland  bHnd  flapping  against  her  open 
window.  It  was  a  soft,  insinuating  sound, 
that  awoke  one  gradually,  and  to  Christina 
both  the  cause  and  the  awakening  itself 
seemed  incredibly  familiar.  So  had  she  lain 
and  Hstened  in  the  past,  as  each  day  broke  in 
her  brain.  When  she  opened  her  eyes  the 
shadow  of  the  sash  wriggled  on  the  blind  as  it 
flapped,  a  blade  of  sunshine  lay  under  the 
door  that  opened  upon  the  veranda,  and 
neither  sight  was  new  to  her.  The  same 
sheets  of  the  Australasian  with  which  her 
own  hands  had  once  lined  the  room,  for  want 
of  a  conventional  wallpaper,  lined  it  still ;  the 
same  area  of  printed  matter  was  in  focus  from 
the  pillow,  and  she  actually  remembered  an 
advertisement  that  caught  her  eye.  It  used 
to  catch  her  eye  two  years  before.  Thus  it 
became  difficult  to  believe  in  those  two  years ; 


22  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

and  it  was  very  pleasant  to  disbelieve  in 
them.  More  than  pleasant  Christina  found 
it  to  lie  where  she  was,  hearing  the  old 
noises  (the  horses  were  run  up  before  she 
rose),  seeing  the  old  things,  and  dreaming 
that  the  last  two  years  were  themselves  a 
dream.  Her.  life  as  it  stood  was  a  much  less 
charming  composition  than  several  possible 
arrangements  of  the  same  material,  impossible 
now.  This  is  not  strange,  but  it  was  a  little 
strange  that  neither  sweet  impossibilities  nor 
bitter  actualities  fascinated  her  much  ;  for  so 
many  good  girls  are  morbidly  introspective. 
As  for  Christina,  let  it  be  clearly  and  early 
understood  that  she  was  neither  an  introspect- 
ive girl  by  nature  nor  a  particularly  good  one 
from  any  point  of  view.  She  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  lookino-  back;  but  to  look  back  on 
the  old  days  here  at  the  station  without  think- 
ing of  later  days  was  like  reading  an  uneven 
book  for  the  second  time,  leaving  out  the  poor 
part. 

In  making,  but  still  more  in  closing  that  gap 
in  her  life  (as  you  close  a  table  after  taking 
out  a  leaf)  she  was  immensely  lielpcd  by  the 
associations  of  the  present  moment.  They 
breathed  of  the  remote  past  only  ;  their  breath 


SWIFT  OF   WALLANDOON.  23 

was  sweet  and  invigorating.  Her  affection 
for  Wallandoon  was  no  affectation  ;  she  loved 
it  as  she  loved  no  other  place.  And  if,  as  she 
dressed,  her  thoughts  dwelt  more  on  the  young 
manager  of  the  station  than  on  the  station 
itself,  that  only  illustrates  the  difference  be- 
tween an  association  and  an  associate.  There 
is  human  interest  in  the  one,  but  it  does  not 
follov/  that  Tiny  Luttrell  was  immoderately 
interested  in  Jack  Swift.  Even  to  herself  she 
denied  that  she  had  ever  done  more  than  like 
him  very  much.  To  some  "  nonsense"  in  the 
past  she  V\^as  ready  to  own.  But  in  the  vocab- 
ulary of  a  Tiny  Luttrell  a  little  "nonsense" 
may  cover  a  calendar  of  mild  crimes.  It  is 
only  the  Jack  Swifts  who  treat  the  nonsense 
seriously  and  deny  that  the  crimes  are  any- 
thing of  the  sort,  because  for  their  part  they 
"  mean  it."  Women  are  not  deceived.  Be- 
sides, it  is  less  shame  for  them  to  say  they 
never  meant  it. 

"  He  must  marry  Flo  Trevor  of  Meringul," 
Christina  said  aloud.  "  It's  what  we  all  expect 
of  him.  It's  his  duty.  But  she  isn't  pretty, 
poor  thing  !  " 

The  remarks  happened  to  be  made  to 
Christina's  ov.^n  reflection  in  the  glass.     She,  as 


24  TINY  I.UTTRELL. 

we  know,  was  very  pretty  indeed.  Her  small 
head  was  finel)^  turned,  and  carried  with  her 
own  natural  grace.  Her  hair  was  of  so  dark 
a  brown  as  to  be  nearly  black,  but  there  was 
not  enough  of  it  to  hide  the  charming  contour 
of  her  head.  If  she  could  have  had  the 
altering  of  one  feature,  she  would  probably 
have  shortened  her  lips  ;  but  their  red  fresh- 
ness justified  their  length  ;  and  the  crux  of  a 
Vv/^oman's  beauty,  her  nose,  happened  to  be 
Christina's  best  point.  Her  eyes  were  a 
sweeter  one.  Their  depth  of  blue  is  seen  only 
under  dark  blue  skies,  and  they  seemed  the 
darker  for  her  hair.  But  with  all  her  good 
features,  because  she  was  not  an  English  girl, 
but  an  Australian  born  and  bred,  she  had  no 
complexion  to  speak  of,  being  pale  and  slightly 
freckled.  Yet  no  one  held  that  those  blem- 
ishes prevented  her  from  being-  pretty ;  while 
some  maintained  that  they  did  not  even 
detract  from  her  orood  looks,  and  a  few  tliat 
they  saved  her  from  perfection  and  vvere 
a  part  of  her  charm.  The  chances  are  that 
the  authorities  quoted  were  themselves  her 
admirers  one  and  all.  She  had  many  such. 
To  most  of  them  her  character  had  the 
same  charm  as  her  face  ;  it,  too,  was  freckled 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOON.  25 

with    faults    for    which     they    loved    her   the 
more. 

One  of  the  many  she  met  presently,  but  one 
of  them  now,  though  in  his  day  the  first  of  all. 
Swift  was  hastening  along  the  veranda  as 
she  issued  forth,  a  consciously  captivating  fig- 
ure in  her  clean  white  frock.  He  had  on  his 
wide-awake,  a  newly  filled  water-bag  dripped 
as  he  carried  it,  the  drops  drying  under  their 
eyes  in  the  sun,  and  Christina  foresaw  at  once 
his  absence  for  the  day.  She  was  disap- 
pointed, perhaps  because  he  was  one  of  the 
many  ;  certainly  it  was  for  this  reason  she  did 
not  let  him  see  her  disappointment.  He  told 
her  that  he  was  going  with  her  father  to  the 
out-station.  That  was  fourteen  miles  away. 
It  meant  a  lonely  day  for  Christina  at  the 
homestead.  So  she  said  that  a  lonely  day 
there  was  just  what  she  wanted,  to  overhaul 
the  dear  old  place  all  by  herself,  and  to  revel 
in  it  like  a  child  without  feeling  that  she  was 
being  watched.  But  she  told  a  franker  story 
some  hours  later,  when  Swift  found  her  still 
on  the  veranda  where  he  had  left  her,  but 
this  was  now  the  shady  side,  seated  in  a  wicker 
chair  and  frowning  at  a  book.  For  she 
promptly  flung  away  that  crutch  of  her  soli- 


26  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

tude,  and  seemed  really  glad  to  see  him.  Her 
look  made  him  tinMe.  He  sat  down  on  the 
edore  of  the  veranda  and  leaned  his  back 
against  a  post.  Then  he  inquired,  rather 
diffidentl)',  how  the  day  had  gone  Avith  Miss 
Luttrell. 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  tell  3^ou,"  said  Christina 
graciously,  for  though  his  diffidence  irritated 
her,  she  was  quite  as  glad  to  see  him  as  she 
looked,  "  that  I  have  been  bored  very 
nearly  to  death  !  " 

"  I  knew  you  would  be,"  Swift  said  quite 
bitterly ;  but  his  bitterness  was  against  an 
absent  man,  v/ho  had  aone  indoors  to  rest. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  could  know  anything," 
remarked  Christina.  "  I  certainly  didn't  know 
it  myself  ;  and  I'm  very  much  ashamed  of  it, 
that's  another  thing  !  I  love  every  stick  about 
the  place.  But  I  never  knew  a  hotter  morn- 
ing ;  the  sand  in  the  yard  was  like  powdered 
cinders,  and  you  can't  go  poking  about  very 
long  when  everything  you  touch  is  red  hot. 
Then  one  felt  tired.  Mrs.  Duncan  took  pity 
on  me  and  came  and  talked  to  me;  she 
must  be  an  acquisition  to  you,  I  am  sure ;  but 
her  cooking's  better  than  her  conversation. 
I  think  she  must  have  sent  the  new  chum  to 


SWIFT  OF  wallandoon:  27 

me  to  take  her  place ;  anyway  I've  had  a  dose 
cf  him,  too,  I  can  tell  you  !  " 

"Oh,  he's  been  cutting  his  work,  has  he?" 

"  He  has  been  doing  the  civil;  I  think  he 
considered  that  his  work," 

"  And  quite  right  too  !  Tell  me,  what  do 
you  think  of  him  ?" 

Christina  made  a  grotesque  grimace.  "  He's 
such  a  little  Englishman,"  she  simply  said. 

"  Well,  he  can't  help  that,  you  know,"  said 
Swift,  laughinp-;  "and  he's  not  half  a  bad  little 
chap,  as  I  told  you  last  night." 

"  Oh,  not  a  bit  bad  ;  only  typical.  He  has 
told  me  his  history.  It  seems  he  missed  the 
army  at  home,  frontdoor  and  back,  in  spite  of 
his  crammer — I  mean  his  cwammer.  He  was 
no  use,  so  they  sent  him  out  to  us." 

"And  he  is  gradually  becoming  of  some  use 
to  us,  or  rather  to  me  ;  he  really  is,"  protested 
Swift  in  the  interests  of  fair  play,  which  a  man 
loves.  "  You  laugh,  but  I  like  the  fellow.  He's 
much  more  use — forgive  my  saying  so — than 
Herbert  ever  would  have  been — here.  At  all 
events  he  doesn't  want  to  fiofht !  He's  will- 
ing,  I  will  say  that  for  him.  And  I  think  it 
was  rather  nice  of  him  to  tell  you  about  him- 
self." 


28  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

*'  It's  nicer  of  you  to  think  so,"  said  Christina 
to  herself.  And  her  glance  softened  so  that 
he  noticed  the  difference,  for  he  was  becom- 
inof  sensitive  to  a  slisfht  but  constant  hardness 
of  eye  and  tongue  distressing  to  find  in  one's 
divinity. 

"  He  went  so  far  as  to  hint  at  an  affair  of 
the  heart,"  she  said  aloud,  and  he  saw  her  eyes 
turn  hard  aeain,  so  that  his  own  o^lanced  off 
them  and  fell.  But  he  forced  a  chuckle  as  he 
looked  down. 

"  Well,  you  gave  him  your  sympathy  there, 
I  hope?" 

"  Not  I,  indeed.  I  urged  him  to  forget  all 
about  her;  she  has  forgotten  all  about  him 
long  before  now,  you  may  be  sure.  He  only 
thinks  about  her  still  because  it's  pleasant  to 
have  somebody  to  think  about  at  a  lonely 
place  like  this  ;  and  if  she's  thinking  about 
him  it's  because  he's  away  in  the  wilderness 
and  there's  a  orlamour  about  that.  It  wouldn't 
prevent  her  marrying  another  man  to-morrow, 
and  it  won't  prevent  him  making  up  to  some 
other  girl  when  he  gets  the  chance." 

"  So  that's  your  experience,  is  it?" 

"  Never  mind  whose  experience  it  is.  I 
advised  the  3^oung  man  to  give  up  thinking 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOON.  29 

about  the  young  woman,  that's  all,  and  it's  my 
advice  to  every  young  man  situated  as  he  is." 

Swift  was  not  amused.  Yet  he  refused  to 
believe  that  her  advice  was  intended  for  him- 
self :  firstly,  because  it  was  so  coolly  given, 
which  was  his  ignorance,  and  secondly,  because, 
literally  speaking,  he  was  not  himself  situated 
as  the  young  Englishman  was,  which  was 
merely  unimaginative.  In  his  determination, 
however,  not  to  meet  her  in  generalizations, 
but  to  get  back  to  the  storekeeper,  he  was 
wise  enough. 

"  I  know  something  about  his  affairs,  too," 
he  said  quietly  ;  "  he's  the  frankest  little  fellow 
in  the  world  ;  and  I  have  given  him  very  dif- 
ferent advice,  I  must  say." 

Tiny  Luttrell  bent  down  on  him  a  gaze  of 
fiendish  innocence. 

"  And  what  sort  of  advice  does  he  give  you, 
pray  ?  " 

"You  had  better  ask  him,"  said  Swift 
feebly,  but  with  effect,  for  he  was  honestly 
annoyed,  and  man  enough  to  shovv^  it.  As  he 
spoke,  indeed,  he  rose. 

"What,  are  you  going?" 

"  Yes  ;  you  go  in  for  being  too  hard  alto- 
gether." 


30  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  I  don't  go  in  for  it.  I  am  liard.  I'm  as 
liard  as  nails,"  said  Christina  rapidly, 

"  So  I  see,"  he  said,  and  another  weak 
return  was  strengthened  by  his  firmness  ;  for 
he  was  going  away  as  he  spoke,  and  he  never 
looked  round. 

"  I  wouldn't  lose  my  temper,"  she  called 
after  him. 

Her  face  was  white.  He  disappeared.  She 
colored  angrily. 

"  Now  I  hate  you,"  she  whispered  to  her- 
self; but  she  probably  respected  him  more, 
and  that  was  as  it  only  should  have  been  long 
ago. 

But  Swift  was  in  an  awkward  position, 
which  indeed  he  deserved  for  the  unsuspected 
passages  that  had  once  taken  place  between 
Tiny  Luttrell  and  himself.  It  is  true  that 
those  passages  had  occurred  at  the  very  end 
of  the  Luttrells'  residence  at  Wallandoon ; 
they  had  not  been  going  on  for  a  period  pre- 
ceding the  end  ;  but  there  is  no  denying  that 
they  were  reprehensible  in  themselves,  and 
pardonable  only  on  the  plea  of  exceeding 
earnestnes"^.  Swift  would  not  have  made  that 
excuse  for  himself,  for  he  felt  it  to  be  a  poor 
one,  though  of  his  ov.-n  sincerity  he  was  and 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOOM.  3^ 

had  been  unwaveringly  sure.  Beyond  all 
doubt  he  was  properly  in  love,  and,  being  so, 
it  was  not  until  the  girl  stopped  wTiting  to 
him  that  he  honestly  repented  the  lengths  to 
which  he  had  been  encouraged  to  go.  It  is 
easy  to  be  blameless  through  the  post,  but 
they  had  kept  up  their  perfectly  blameless 
correspondence  for  a  very  few  vv^eeks  when 
Christina  ceased  firing  ;  she  was  to  have  gone 
on  forever.  He  was  just  persistent  enough 
to  make  it  evident  that  her  silence  was  inten- 
tional ;  then  the  silence  became  complete,  and 
it  was  never  ao'ain  broken.  For  if  Swift's 
self-control  was  limited,  his  self-respect  was 
considerable,  and  this  made  him  duly  regret 
the  limitations  of  his  self-control.  His  boy's 
soul  bled  with  a  boy's  generous  regrets.  He 
had  kissed  her,  of  course,  and  I  wonder  whose 
fault  you  think  that  was  ?  I  know  which  of 
them  regretted  and  which  forgot  it.  The 
man  would  have  given  one  of  his  fingers  to 
have  undone  those  kisses,  that  made  him  think 
less  of  himself  and  less  of  his  darling.  Nothing 
could  make  him  love  her  less.  He  heard  no 
more  of  her,  but  that  made  no  difference. 
And  now  they  were  together  again,  and  she 
was  hard,  and  it  made  this  difference  :  that  he 


32  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

wanted  her  worse  than  ever,  and  for  her  own 
gain  now  as  much  as  for  his. 

But  two  years  had  akered  him  also.  In  a 
manner  he  too  was  hardened  ;  but  he  was  simply 
a  stronger,  not  a  colder  man.  The  muscles  of 
his  mind  were  set ;  his  soul  was  now  as  sinewy 
as  his  body.  He  knew  what  he  wanted,  and 
what  would  not  do  for  him  instead.  He  wanted 
a  great  deal,  but  he  meant  having  it  or  nothing. 
This  time  she  should  give  him  her  heart  before 
he  took  her  hand  ;  he  swore  it  through  his 
teeth  ;  and  you  will  realize  how  he  must  have 
known  her  of  old  even  to  have  thought  it.  The 
curious  thing  is  that,  having  shown  him  what 
she  was,  she  should  have  made  him  love  her 
as  he  did.      But  that  was  Tiny  Luttrell. 

She  was  half  witch,  half  coquette,  and  her 
superficial  cynicism  was  but  a  new  form  of  her 
coquetry.  He  liked  it  less  than  the  unsophis- 
ticated methods  of  the  old  days.  Indeed,  he 
liked  the  girl  less,  while  loving  her  more.  She 
had  o-iven  him  the  iar  direct  in  one  conversa- 
tion,  but  even  on  indifferent  subjects  she  spoke 
with  a  bitterness  which  he  thoroughly  dis- 
liked;  while  some  of  her  prejudices  he  could 
not  help  thinking  irredeemably  absurd.  As  a 
shrill  decrier  of  England,  for  instance,  she  may 


SWIFT  OF   WALLANDOON.  33 

have  amused  him,  but  he  hardly  admired  her 
in  that  character.  In  a  word,  he  thought  her, 
and  rightly,  a  good  deal  spoilt  by  her  town 
life  ;  but  he  hated  towns,  and  it  was  a  proof  of 
her  worth  In  his  eyes  that  she  was  not  hope- 
lessly spoilt.  He  saw  hope  for  her  still — if 
she  would  marry  him.  He  was  a  modest  man 
in  general,  but  he  did  feel  this  most  strongly. 
She  was  going-  to  England  without  caring 
whether  she  went  or  not ;  she  would  do  much 
better  by  marrying  him  and  coming  back  to 
her  old  hom.e  in  the  bush.  That  home  she 
loved,  whether  she  loved  him  or  not ;  in  it  she 
had  grown  up  simple  and  credulous  and  sweet, 
with  a  wicked  side  that  only  picked  out  her 
sweetness  ;  in  it  he  believed  that  her  life  and 
his  might  yet  be  beautiful.  The  feeling  made 
him  sometimes  rejoice  that  she  had  fallen  a 
little  out  of  love  with  her  life,  so  that  he  might 
show  her  with  all  the  effect  of  contrast  what 
life  and  love  really  were  ;  it  thrilled  his  heart 
with  generous  throbs,  it  brought  the  moisture 
to  his  honest  eyes,  and  it  came  to  him  oftener 
and  with  growing  force  as  the  days  went  on, 
by  reason  of  certain  signs  they  brought  forth 
in  Christiana,  Her  voice  lost  Its  bitterness  in 
his  ears,  not  because   he  had  grown  used  to 


34  TINY  LVTTRkLL. 

notes  that  had  jarred  hnii  in  the  beginnuig,but 
because  the  discordant  strings  came  gradually 
into  tune.  Her  freshness  came  back  to  her 
with  the  charm  and  influence  of  the  wilderness 
she  loved  ;  her  old  self  lived  again  to  Jack 
Swift.  On  the  other  hand,  she  came  to  realize 
her  own  delight  in  the  old  good  life  as  she  had 
never  realized  it  before ;  she  felt  that  hence- 
forward she  should  miss  it  as  she  had  not 
missed  it  vet.  Now  she  could  have  defined 
her  sensations  and  ijiven  reasons  for  them. 
She  spent  many  hours  in  the  saddle,  on  a 
former  mount  of  hers  that  Swift  had  run  up 
for  her ;  often  he  rode  with  her,  and  the  scent 
of  the  pines,  the  swelling  of  the  sand-hills 
against  the  sky,  the  sense  of  Nothing  between 
the  horses'  ears  and  the  sunset,  spoke  to  her 
spirit  as  they  had  never  done  of  old.  hwA 
even  so  on  their  rides  would  she  speak  to 
Swift,  who  listened  grimly,  hardly  daring  to 
answer  her  for  the  fear  of  saying  at  the  wrong 
moment  vv^hat  he  had  resolved  to  say  once  and 
for  all  before  she  went. 

And  he  chose  the  wrong  moment  after  all. 
It  was  the  eve  of  her  going,  and  they  were 
riding  together  for  the  last  time  ;  he  felt  that 
it  was  also  his  last  opportunity.      So   in   six 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOON.  3$ 

miles  he  made  as  many  remarks,  then 
turned  in  his  saddle  and  spoke  out  with  over- 
powering fervor.  This  may  be  expected  of 
the  self-contained  suitor,  v/ith  whom  it  is  only 
a  question  of  time,  and  the  longer  the  time  the 
stronger  the  outburst.  But  Christina  was  not 
carried  away,  for  she  did  not  quite  love  him, 
and  the  opportunity  Avas  a  bad  one,  and  Swift's 
honest  method  had  not  improved  it.  She 
listened  kindly,  with  her  eyes  on  the  distant 
timbers  of  the  eip-ht-mile  whim  ;  but  her  kind- 
ness  was  fatally  calm  ;  and  when  he  waited 
she  refused  him  firmly.  She  confessed  to  a 
fondness  for  him.  She  ascribed  this  to  the 
years  they  had  known  each  other.  Once  and 
for  all  she  did  not  love  him. 

"  Not  now  ! "  exclaimed  the  young  fellow 
eagerly.  "  But  you  did  once !  You  will 
again  ! " 

"  I  never  loved  you,"  said  the  girl  gravely. 
"  If  you're  thinking  of  two  years  ago,  that  was 
mere  nonsense.  I  don't  believe  its  love  with 
you  either,  if  you  only  knew  it." 

"  But  I  do  know  what  it  is  with  me,  Tiny ! 
i  loved  you  before  you  went  away,  and  all  the 
time  you  vv'^ere  gone.  Since  you  have  been 
back,  during  these  few   days,   I  have  got  to 


36  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

love  you  more  than  ever.  And  so  I  shall 
go  on,  whatever  happens.  I  can't  help  it, 
darling." 

Neither  could  he  help  saying  this ;  for  the 
hour  found  him  unable  to  accept  his  fate  quite 
as  he  had  meant  to  accept  it.  Her  kindness 
had  something  to  do  with  that.  And  now  she 
spoke  more  kindly  than  before. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?"  she  said. 

"  Am  I  sure  ! "  he  echoed  bitterly. 

"It  is  so  easy  to  deceive  oneself." 

"I  am  not  deceived." 

"  It  is  so  easy  to  imagine  yourself " 

"I  am  not  imagining  !"  cried  Swift  impa- 
tiently. ^'  I  am  the  man  who  has  loved  you 
always,  and  never  any  girl  but  you.  If  you 
can't  believe  that,  you  must  have  had  a  very 
poor  experience  of  men,  Tiny  !  " 

For  a  moment  she  looked  away  from  the 
whim  which  they  were  slowly  nearing,  and  her 
eyes  met  his. 

"  I  have,"  she  admitted  frankly ;  "  I  have 
had  a  particularly  poor  experience  of  them. 
Yet  I  am  sorry  to  find  you  so  different  from 
the  rest  ;  I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am  to 
find  you  true  to  me." 

"Sorry?"  he  said   tenderly;  for  her  voice 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOON.  37 

was  full  of  pain,  and  he  could  not  bear  that. 
"Why  should  you  be  sorry,  dear  ?" 

"  Why — because  I  never  dreamt  of  being 
true  to  you." 

For  some  reason  her  face  flamed  as  he 
watched  it.  There  was  a  pause.  Then  he 
said  : 

"You  are  not  engaged  ;  are  you  in  love  ?" 

"  Very  far  from  it." 

"  Then  why  mind  ?  If  there  is  no  one  else 
you  care  for  you  shall  care  for  me  yet.  I'll 
make  you.  I'll  wait  for  you.  You  don't  know 
me  !  I  won't  give  you  up  until  you  are  some 
other  fellow's  wife." 

His  stern  eyes,  the  way  his  mouth  shut  on 
the  words,  and  the  manly  determination  of 
the  words  themselves  gave  the  girl  a  thrill  of 
pleasure  and  of  pride  ;  but  also  a  pang  ;  for 
at  that  moment  she  felt  the  wish  to  love  him 
alongside  the  inability,  and  all  at  once  she 
was  as  sorry  for  herself  as  for  him. 

"  What  should  you  mind  ?"  repeated  Swift. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  but  you  can  guess  what  I 
have  been." 

"  A  flirt  ?"  He  laughed  aloud.  "  Darling, 
I  dnn't  care  two  figs  for  your  flirtations  !  I 
v/anted  you  to  enjoy  yourself.     What  does  it 


38  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

matter  how  you've  enjoyed  yourself,  so  long  as 
you  haven't  absolutely  been  getting  engaged 
or  falling  in  love  ?" 

Her  chin  drooped  into  her  loose  white 
blouse.  "  I  did  fall  in  love,"  she  said  slowly 
— **  at  any  rate  I  thought  so  ;  and  I  very 
nearly  got  engaged." 

Swift  had  never  seen  so  much  color  in  her 
face. 

Presently  he  said,  ""  What  happened  ? "  but 
immediately  added,  "  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  of 
course  I  have  no  business  to  ask."  His  tone 
was  more  stiff  than  strained. 

"  You  have  business,"  she  answered  eagerly, 
fearful  of  making  him  less  than  friend.  "  I 
wouldn't  mind  telling  you  the  whole  thing, 
except  the  man's  name.  And  yet,"  she  added 
rather  wistfully,  "  I  suppose  you're  the  only 
friend  I  have  that  doesn't  know!  It's  hard 
lines  to  have  to  tell  you." 

"  Then  I  don't  want  to  know  anything  at 
all  about  it,"  exclaimed  Swift  impulsively. 
"  I  would  rather  you  didn't  tell  me  a  word, 
if  you  don't  mind.  I  am  only  too  thankful  to 
think  you  got  out  of  it,  whatever  it  was." 

"  I  didn't  p-et  out  of  it." 

"You  don  t — mean — that  the  man  did  ?" 


SWIFT  OF   WALLANDOON,  39 

Swift  was  aghast. 

"  I  do." 

He  did  not  speak,  but  she  heard  him 
breathing.  Steahng  a  look  at  him,  her  eyes 
fell  first  upon  the  clenched  fist  lying  on  his 
knee. 

She  made  haste  to  defend  the  man. 

"It  wasn't  all  his  fault ;  of  that  I  feel  sure. 
If  you  knew  who  he  was  you  wouldn't  blame 
him  any  more  than  I  do.  He  was  quite  a 
boy,  too  ;  I  don't  suppose  he  was  a  free  agent. 
In  any  case  it  is  all  quite,  quite  over." 

"  Is  it  ?  He  was  from  England — that's 
why  you  hate  the  home  people  so  ! " 

*' Yes,  he  was  from  home.  He  went  back 
very  suddenly.  It  wasn't  his  fault.  He  was 
sent  for.      But  he  might  have  said  good-by  !" 

She  spoke  reflectively,  gazing  once  more  at 
the  whim.  They  were  near  it  now.  The 
framework  cut  the  sky  like  some  uncouth 
hieroglyph.  To  Swift  henceforward,  on  all 
his  lonely  journeys  hither,  it  was  the  emblem 
of  humiliation.  But  it  was  not  his  own 
humiliation  that  moistened  his  clenched  hand 
now. 

"  I  wish  I  had  him  here,"  he  muttered. 

**  Ah  !   you  know   nothing  about   him,  you 


46  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

see  ;  I  know  enough  to  forgive  him.  And  I 
have  got  over  it,  quite  ;  but  the  worst  of  it  is 
\hat  I  can't  beHeve  any  more  in  any  of  you — 
I  simply  can't." 

"  Not  in  me?"  asked  Swift  warmly,  for  her 
belief  in  him,  at  least,  he  knew  he  deserved. 
"  I  have  always  been  the  same.  I  have  never 
thought  of  any  other  girl  but  you,  and  I  never 
will.     I  love  you,  darling  !  " 

"After  this.  Jack?" 

He  seemed  to  disappoint  her. 

"  After  the  same  thing  if  it  happens  all 
over  again  in  Enoland!  There  is  no  merit  in 
it ;  I  simply  can't  help  myself.  While  you 
are  away  I  will  wait  for  you  and  work  for 
you  ;  only  come  back  free,  and  I  will  win  you, 
too,  in  the  end.  You  are  happier  here  than 
anywhere  else,  but  you  don't  know  what  it  is 
to  be  really  happy  as  I  should  make  you. 
Remember  that — and  this  :  that  I  will  never 
give  you  up  until  someone  else  has  got  you  ! 
Now  call  me  conceited  or  anything  you  like. 
I  have  done  bothering  you." 

"  I  can  only  call  you  foolish,"  said  the  girl, 
though  gently.  "You  are  far  too  good  for 
me.  As  for  conceit,  you  haven't  enough  of  it, 
or  you  would  never  give  me  another  thought. 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOOIV.  41 

I  still  hope  you  will  quite  give  up  thinking 
about  me,  and — and  try  to  get  over  it.  But 
nothing  is  going  to  happen  in  England,  I  can 
promise  you  that  much.  And  I  only  wish  I 
could  get  out  of  going.'' 

He  had  already  shown  her  how  she  might 
get  out  of  it ;  he  was  not  going  to  show  her 
afresh  or  more  explicitly,  in  spite  of  the  temp- 
tation to  do  so.  Even  to  a  proud  spirit  it  is 
difficult  to  take  No  when  the  voice  that  says 
it  is  kind  and  sorrowful  and  all  but  loving. 
Swift  found  it  easier  to  bide  by  his  own  state- 
ment that  he  had  done  bothering  her ;  such 
was  his  pride. 

But  he  had  chosen  the  wrong  moment,  and 
though  he  had  shown  less  pride  than  he  had 
meant  to  show,  he  was  still  too  proud  to  im- 
prove the  right  one  when  it  came.  He  was 
too  proud,  indeed,  to  stand  much  chance  of 
immediate  success  in  love.  Otherwise  he 
miofht  have  reminded  her  with  more  force  and 
particularity  of  their  former  relations ;  and 
playing  like  that  he  might  have  won,  but  he 
would  rather  have  lost.  Perhaps  he  did  not 
recognize  the  right  moment  as  such  when  it 
fell  ;  but  at  least  he  must  have  seen  that  it 
was  better  than  the  one  he  had  chosen.     It 


42  Th^Y  LUTTRELL. 

fell  in  the  evening,  when  Christina's  mood 
became  conspicuously  sentimental ;  but  Swift 
happened  to  be  one  of  the  last  young  men  in 
the  world  to  take  advantage  of  any  mere 
mood. 

As  on  the  first  evening,  Mr.  Luttreli  was 
busy  in  the  store,  but  this  time  with  the  store- 
keeper, who  was  making  out  a  list  of  things 
to  be  sent  up  in  the  drays  from  Melbourne. 
Tiny  and  the  manager  were  thrown  together 
for  the  last  time.  She  offered  to  sing  a  song, 
and  he  thanked  her  gratefully  enough.  But 
he  listened  to  her  plaintive  songs  from  a  far 
corner  of  the  room,  though  the  room  was 
lighted  only  by  the  moonbeams  ;  and  when 
she  rose  he  declared  that  she  was  tired  and 
begged  her  not  to  sing  any  more.  She  could 
have  beaten  him  for  that. 

But  in  leaving  the  room  they  lingered  on 
the  threshold,  being  struck  by  the  beauty  of 
the  nioht.     The  full  moon  ribbed  the  station 

<z> 

yard  with  the  shadows  of  the  pines,  a  soft 
light  was  burning  in  the  store,  and  all  was  so 
still  that  the  champing  of  the  night-horse  in 
the  yard  came  plainly  to  their  ears,  with  the 
chirping  of  the  everlasting  crickets.  Christina 
raised  her  face  to  Swift ;  her  eyes  were  wet  in 


SWIFT  OF    WALLANDOON.  43 

the  moonlight ;  there  was  even  a  sh'ght  tremor 
of  the  red  Hps  ;  and  one  hand  hung  down 
invitingly  at  her  side.  She  did  not  love  him, 
hut  she  was  beijinnino-  to  wish  that  she  could 
love  him  ;  and  she  did  love  the  place.  Had 
he  taken  that  one  hand  then  the  chances  are 
he  might  have  kept  it.  But  even  Swift  never 
dreamt  that  this  was  so.  And  after  that 
moment  it  was  not  so  any  more.  She  turned 
cold,  and  was  cold  to  the  Qn()i.  Her  last  words 
from  the  top  of  the  coach  fell  as  harshly  on  a 
loving  ear  as  any  that  had  preceded  them  by 
a  week. 

"Why  need  you  remind  me  I  am  going  to 
England?  Enjoy  myself!  I  shall  detest 
the  whole  thing." 

Her  last  look  matched  the  words. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    TAIL    OF    THE    SEASON. 

*'  What  do  you  say  to  sitting  it  out  ?  The 
rooms  are  most  awfully  crowded,  and  you 
dance  too  well  for  one  ;  besides,  one's  anxious 
to  hear  your  impressions  of  a  London  ball." 

"One  must  wait  till  the  ball  is  over.  So  far 
I  can't  deny  that  I'm  enjoying  myself  in  spite 
of  the  crush.  But  I  should  rather  like  to  sit 
out  for  once,  though  you  needn't  be  sarcastic 
about  my  dancing," 

"  Well,  then,  where's  a  good  place  ?  " 

*'  There's  a  famous  corner  in  the  conserva- 
tory ;  it  should,  be  empty  now  that  a  dance  is 
just  beginning." 

It  was.  So  it  became  occupied  next  moment 
by  Tiny  Luttrell  and  her  partner,  who  allowed 
that  the  dimly  illumined  recess  among  the  tree- 
ferns  deserved  its  fame.  Tiny's  partner,  how- 
ever, was  only  her  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Erskine 
Holland. 

The  Luttrells  had  been  exactly  a  fortnight 

44 


THE    TAIL   OF    THE   SEASON.  45 

in  England.  It  was  in  the  earliest  hour  of 
the  month  of  July  that  Christina  sat  out  with 
her  brother-in-law  at  her  first  London  party  ; 
and  if  she  had  spent  that  fortnight  chiefly  in 
visiting  dressmakers  and  waiting  for  results, 
she  had  at  least  found  time  to  get  to  know 
Erskine  Holland  very  much  better  than  she 
had  ever  done  in  Melbourne,  There  she  had 
seen  very  little  of  him,  partly  through  being 
away  from  home  when  he  first  called  with  an 
introduction  to  the  family,  but  more  by  reason 
of  the  short  hurdle  race  he  had  made  of  his 
courtship,  marriage,  and  return  to  England 
with  his  bride.  He  had  taken  the  matrimonial 
fences  as  only  an  old  bachelor  can  who  has 
been  given  up  as  such  by  his  friends.  Mr. 
Holland,  though  still  nearer  thirty  than  forty, 
had  been  regarded  as  a  confirmed  bachelor 
when  starting  on  a  long  sea  voyage  for  the 
restoration  of  his  health  after  an  autumnal 
typhoid.  His  friends  were  soon  to  know  what 
weakened  health  and  Australian  women  can 
do  between  them.  They  beheld  their  bachelor 
return  within  four  months,  a  comfortably  mar- 
ried man.  with  a  pleasant  little  wife  who  was 
very  fond  of  him,  and  in  no  way  jealous  of  his 
old   friends.     That  was   Mrs.  Erskine's  ereat 


4«>  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

merit,  and  the  secret  of  the  signal  success 
with  which  she  presided  over  his  table  in  West 
Kensington,  when  Erskine  had  settled  down 
there  and  returned  with  steadiness  to  the  good, 
safe  business  to  which  he  had  been  virtually 
born  a  partner.  For  his  part,  without  being 
enslaved  to  a  decree  embarrassino-  to  their 
friends,  Holland  made  an  obviously  satisfac- 
tory husband.  He  was  good-natured  and 
never  exacting  ;  he  was  well  off  and  generous. 
One  of  a  wealthy,  many-membered  firm  driving 
a  versatile  trade  in  the  East,  he  was  as  free 
personally  from  business  anxieties  as  was  the 
hall  porter  at  the  firm's  oflfices  in  Lombard 
Street.  There  Erskine  was  the  most  popular 
and  least  useful  fraction  of  the  firm,  being  just 
a  big,  fair,  genial  fellow,  fond  of  laughter  and 
chaff  and  lawn  tennis,  and  fonder  of  books 
than  of  the  newspapers — an  eccentric  prefer- 
ence in  a  business  man.  But  as  a  business 
man  tb.e  older  partners  shook  their  heads 
about  him.  Once  as  a  youngster  he  had  spent 
a  year  or  two  in  Lisbon,  learning  the  language 
and  the  ropes  there,  the  firm  having  certain 
minor  interests  planted  in  Portuguese  soil  on 
both  sides  of  the  Indian  Ocean  ;  and  those 
interests    just  suited    Erskine    Holland,   who 


THE    TAIL    OF    THE   SEA  SOX.  47 

had  the  handling  of  them,  though  the  older 
partners  nursed  their  own  distrust  of  a  man 
who  boasted  of  taking  his  work  out  of  his  head 
each  evening  when  he  hung  up  his  office  coat. 
At  home  Erskine  was  a  man  who  read  more 
than  one  guessed,  and  had  his  own  ideas  on  a 
good  many  subjects.  He  found  his  sister-in- 
law  lamentably  ignorant,  but  quite  eager  to 
improve  her  mind  at  his  direction  ;  and  this  is 
ever  delightful  to  the  man  who  reads.  Also 
he  found  her  amusing,  and  that  experience 
was  mutual. 

A  Londoner  himself,  with  many  reputable 
relatives  in  the  town,  who  rejoiced  in  the 
bachelor's  marriage  and  were  able  to  like  his 
wife,  he  w^as  in  a  position  to  gratify  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  Mrs.  Erskine's  social  desires. 
That  he  did  so  somewhat  against  his  own 
inclination  (much  as  in  Melbourne  his  father- 
in-law  had  done  before  him)  was  due  to  an 
acutely  fair  mind  allied  with  a  thoroughly  kind 
and  sympathetic  nature.  His  own  attitude 
toward  society  was  not  free  from  that  slight 
intellectual  superiority  which  some  of  the  best 
fellows  in  the  world  cannot  help  ;  but  at  least 
it  was  pet'fectly  genuine.  He  treated  society 
as  he  treated  champagne,  which  he   seldom 


48  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

touched,  but  about  which  he  was  curiously 
fastidious  on  those  chance  occasions.  He 
cared  as  little  for  the  one  as  for  the  other,  but 
found  the  drier  brands  inoffensive  in  both 
cases.     The  ball  to-night  was  at  Lady  Almeric's. 

"  Not  a  bad  corner,"  Erskine  said  as  he 
made  himself  comfortable  ;  "  but  I'm  afraid 
it's  rather  thrown  away  upon  me,  you 
know." 

"  Far  from  it.  I  wish  I  had  been  dancing 
with  you  the  whole  evening,  Erskine,"  said 
Christina  seriously. 

"  That's  rather  obsequious  of  you.  May  I 
ask  why  ?  " 

"  Because  I  don't  think  much  of  my  part- 
ners so  far,  to  talk  to." 

"Ha!  I  knew  there  was  something  you 
wouldn't  think  much  of,"  cried  Erskine  Hol- 
land. "  Have  they  nothing  to  say  for  them- 
selves, then  ? " 

"  Oh,  plenty.  They  discover  where  I  come 
from  ;  then  they  show  their  ignorance.  They 
want  to  know  if  there  is  any  chance  for  a  fel- 
low on  the  gold  fields  now  ;  they  have  heard 
of  a  place  called  Ballarat,  but  they  aren't 
certain  whether  it's  a  part  of  Melbourne  or 
nearer  Sydney.     One  man  knows  some  peo- 


THE    TAIL   OF   THE   SEASON.  49 

pie  at  Hobart  Town,  in  New  Zealand,  he 
fancies.  I  never  knew  anything  like  their 
ienorance  of  the  colonies!" 

Mr.  Holland  tugged  a  smile  out  of  his 
mustache.  "  Can  you  tell  me  how  to  address 
a  letter  to  Montreal — is  it  Quebec  or  Onta- 
rio?" he  asked  her,  as  if  interested  and 
anxious    to    learn. 

"  Goodness  knows,"  replied  Christina  inno- 
cently. 

"  Then  that's  rather  like  their  ignorance  of 
the  colonies,  isn't  it  ?  There's  not  much  dif- 
ference between  a  group  of  colonies  and  a 
dominion,  you  see.  I'm  afraid  your  partners 
are  not  the  only  people  whose  geography  has 
been  sadly  neglected." 

Christina  laughed. 

"  My  education's  been  neglected  altogether, 
if  it  comes  to  that.  As  you're  taking  me  in 
hand,  perhaps  you'll  lend  me  a  geography,  as 
well  as  Ruskin  and  Thackeray.  Nevertheless, 
Australia's  more  important  than  Canada,  you 
may  say  what  you  like,  Erskine  ;  and  your 
being  smart  won't  improve  my  partners." 

"  Oh  !  but  I  thought  it  was  only  their  con- 
versation ?" 

"  You  force  me  to  tell  you  that  their  idea  of 


56  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

dancing  seems  limited  to  pushing  you  up  one 
side  of  the  room,  and  dragging  you  after 
them  down  the  other.  Sometim.es  they  turn 
you  round.  Then  they're  j)roud  of  them- 
selves. They  never  do  it  twice  running." 
"That's  because  there  are  so  many  here." 
"  There  are  far  too  many  here — that's 
what's  the  matter!  And  I'm  a  nice  person 
to  tell  you  so,"  added  Tiny  penitently,  "when 
it's  you  and  Ruth  who  have  brought  me  here. 
But  you  know  I  don't  mean  that  I'm  not  enjoy- 
ing it,  Erskine  ;  I'm  enjoying  it  immensely, 
and  I'm  very  proud  of  myself  for  being  here 
at  all.  I  can't  quite  explain  myself — I  don't 
much  like  trying  to — but  there's  a  something 
about  everything  that  makes  it  seem  better 
than  anything  of  the  kind  that  we  can  do  in 
Melbourne.  The  music  is  so  splendid,  and 
the  floor,  and  the  flowers.  I  never  saw  such 
a  few  diamonds — or  such  beauties  !  Even  the 
ices  are  the  best  I  ever  tasted,  and  they  aren't 
too  sweet.  There's  something  subdued  and 
superior  about  the  whole  concern  ;  but  it's  too 
subdued ;  it  needs  go  and  swing  nearly  as 
badly  as  it  needs  elbow-room — of  more  kinds 
than  one  !  I'm  thinking  less  of  the  crowd  of 
people  than  of  their  etiquette  and  ceremony. 


THE    TAIL    OF    THE    SEASON.  51 

which  hamper  you  far  more.  But  it's  your 
old  England  in  a  nutshell,  this  ball  is  :  it  fits 
too  tight." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  Erskine,  laughing, 
"  I  don't  think  it's  at  all  bad  for  you  to  find 
the  old  country  a  tight  fit !  I'm  obliged  to 
you  for  the  expression,  Tiny.  I  only  hope  it 
isn't  suggested  by  personal  suffering.  I  have 
been  thinking  that  you  must  have  a  good  word 
to  sav  for  our  dressmakers,  if  not  for  our 
dancinof  men." 

Christina  slid  her  eyes  over  the  snow  and 
ice  of  the  shimmering  attire  that  had  been 
made  for  her  in  haste  since  her  arrival. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  me,"  she  said,  smiling 
honestly.  "  I  must  own  I  rather  like  myself 
in  this  lot.  I  didn't  want  to  disgrace  you 
among  your  fine  friends,  you  see." 

"They're  more  fine  than  friends,  my  dear 
girl.  Lady  Almeric's  the  only  friend.  She 
has  been  very  nice  to  Ruth,  Most  of  the  peo- 
ple here  are  rather  classy,  I  can  assure  vou." 

He  named  the  flov/er  of  the  company  in  a 
lowered  voice.  Christina  knew  one  of  the 
names. 

"  Lady  Mary  Dromard,  did  you  say?"  said 
she,  playing  idly  with  her  fan. 


52  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Yes  ;  do  you  know  her  ?  " 

*'  No,  but  her  brother  was  In  Melbourne 
once  as  aid-de-camp  to  the  governor.  I 
knew  him." 

"  Ah,  that  was  Lord  Manister  ;  he  wasn't 
out  there  when  I  was." 

"  No,  he  must  have  come  just  after  you  had 
gone.  He  only  remained  a  few  months,  you 
know.  He  was  a  quiet  young  man  with  a 
mania  for  cricket ;  we  liked  him  because  he 
set  our  young  men  their  fashions  and  yet 
never  gave  himself  airs.  I  wonder  if  he's  here 
as  well  ?"  ^ 

"  I  don't  think  so.  I  know  him  by  sight, 
but  I  haven't  seen  him.  I'm  glad  to  hear  he 
didn't  give  himself  airs  ;  you  couldn't  say  the 
same  for  the  sister  who  Is  here,  though  I  only 
know  her  by  sight,  too." 

"  He  was  quite  a  nice  young  man,"  said 
Christina,  shutting  up  her  fan  ;  and  as  she 
spoke  the  music,  whose  strains  had  reached 
them  all  the  time,  came  to  its  natural  end. 

The  conservatory  suffered  instant  invasion, 
Christina  and  Mr.  Holland  being  afforded  the 
entertainment  of  disappointing  couple  after 
couple  who  came  straight  to  their  corner. 
"  We're     in     a     coveted     spot,"     whispered 


THE    TAIL    OF   THE   SEASON.  53 

Erskine  ;  and  his  sister-in-law  reminded  him 
who  had  shown  the  way  to  it.  It  was  less  se- 
cluded than  remote,  so  the  present  occupiers 
found  further  entertainment  as  mere  specta- 
tors. The  same  little  things  amused  them 
both  ;  this  was  one  reason  why  they  got  on  so 
well  together.  They  were  amused  by  such 
trifles  as  a  distant  prospect  of  Ruth,  who  was 
innocently  enjoying  herself  at  the  other  end 
of  the  conservatory,  unaware  of  their  eyes. 
Erskine  might  have  felt  proud,  and  no  doubt 
he  did,  for  many  people  considered  Ruth  even 
prettier  than  Christina,  with  whom,  however, 
they  were  apt  to  confuse  her,  though  Holland 
himself  could  never  see  the  likeness.  He  now 
sat  watchinor  his  wife  in  the  distance  while 
talking  to  her  sister  at  his  side  until  a  new 
partner  pounced  upon  Ruth,  and  bore  her 
away  as  the  music  began  afresh. 

"There  goes  my  chaperon,"  remarked 
Christina  resignedly. 

"Who's  your  partner  now?  I'm  sorry  to 
say  I  see  mine  within  ten  yards  of  me,"  whis- 
pered Erskine  in  some  anxiety. 

Tiny  consulted  her  card.  '"  It's  Herbert," 
she  said. 

"Herbert!"    said   Mr.    Holland    dubiously. 


54  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  I'm  afraid  Herbert's  going  it ;  he's  deeply  em- 
ployed with  a  girl  in  red — I  think  an  Ameri- 
can. Shall  I  take  you  to  Lady  Almeric  ? " 
His  eyes  shifted  uneasily  toward  his  expect- 
ant partner. 

"  No,  I'll  wait  here  for  Herbert.  •  Mayn't  I  ? 
Then  I'm  ofoing-  to.  You're  sure  to  see  him, 
and  you  can  send  him  at  once.  Don't  blame 
Ruth.  What  does  it  matter?  It  will  matter 
if  you  don't  go  this  instant  to  your  partner  ;  I 
see  it  in  her  eye  !  " 

He  left  her  reluctantly,  with  the  undertak- 
incr  that  Herbert  should  be  at  her  side  in  two 
minutes.  But  that  was  rash.  Christina  soon 
had  the  conservatory  entirely  to  herself,  where- 
upon she  came  out  of  her  corner,  so  that  her 
brother  might  find  her  the  more  readily.  Still 
he  kept  her  waiting,  and  she  might  as  well  have 
been  lonely  in  the  corner.  It  was  too  bad  of 
Herbert  to  leave  her  standing  there,  where 
she  had  no  business  to  be  by  herself,  and  the 
music  and  the  throbbing  of  the  floor  within  a 
few  yards  of  her.  These  awkward  minutes 
naturally  began  to  disturb  her.  They  checked 
and  cooled  her  in  the  full  blast  of  healthy 
excitement,  and  that  was  bad  ;  they  threw  her 
back  upon  herself   straight  from  her  lightest 


THE   TAIL  OF  THE  SEA  SO I^.  55 

mood,  and  this  was  worse.  She  became  ab- 
normally aware  of  her  own  presence  as  she 
stood  looking  down  and  impatientl}^  tapping- 
with  her  little  white  slipper  upon  the  marble 
Hags.  Even  about  these  there  was  the  grand  air 
which  Christina  relished  ;  she  might  have  seen 
her  face  far  below,  as  though  she  had  been 
standing  in  still  v/ater  ;  but  her  thoughts  had 
been  given  a  rough  jerk  inward,  her  outward 
vision  fell  no  deeper  than  the  polished  surface, 
while  her  mind's  eye  saw  all  at  once  the  dusty 
veranda  boards  of  Wallandoon.  She  stood 
very  still,  and  in  her  ears  the  music  died  away, 
and  through  three  months  of  travel  and  great 
changes  she  heard  aijain  the  nicrht-horse 
champing  in  the  yard,  and  the  crickets  chirp- 
ine  further  aheld.  And  as  she  stood,  her 
head  bowed  b\'  this  sudden  memory,  footsteps 
approached,  and  she  looked  up,  expecting  to 
see  Herbert.  But  it  was  not  Herbert  ;  it  was 
a  young  man  of  more  visible  distinction  than 
Herbert  Luttrell.  It  is  difficult  to  look  better 
dressed  than  another  in  our  evening  mode  ; 
but  this  young  man  overcame  the  difficulty. 
He  stood  erect ;  he  was  well  built  ;  his  clothes 
fitted  beautifully  ;  he  was  himself  nice  look- 
ing,   and    fair-haired,    and   bovish  ;  and,   even 


5 6  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

more  than  his  clothes,  one  admired  his  smile, 
which  was  frank  and  delightful.  But  the  smile 
he  gave  Christina  was  followed  by  a  blush,  for 
she  had  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  asked 
him  how  he  was. 

"  I'm  all  right,  thanks.  But — this  is  the 
most  extraordinary  thing  !     Been  over  long  ?" 

He  had  dropped  her  hand. 

"About  a  fortnight,"  said  Christina, 

"  But  what  a  pity  to  come  over  so  late  in 
the  season  !     It's  about  done,  you  know." 

"  Yes.  I  thought  there  was  a  good  deal 
ofoinof  on  still." 

"There's  Henley,  to  be  sure." 

"  I  think  I'm  going  to  Henley." 

"  Goincr  to  the  Eton  and  Harrow  ?" 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure.  That  was  your 
match,  wasn't  it  ?" 

The  young  man  blushed  afresh. 

"Fancy your  remembering!  Unfortunately 
it  wasn't  my  match,  though  ;  my  day  out  was 
against  Winchester." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Tiny,  less  knowingly. 

"  And  how  are  you,  Miss  Luttrell  ?" 

This  had  been  forgotten.  Tiny  reported 
well  of  herself.  Her  friend  hesitated  ;  there 
was  some  nervousness  in  his  manner,  but  his 


THE    TAIL    OF    THE   SEASON.  57 

good  eyes  never  fell  from  her  face,  and  pres- 
ently he  exclaimed,  as  though  the  idea  had 
just  struck  him  : 

"  I  say,  mayn't  I  have  this  dance,  Miss  Lut- 
trell — what's  left  of  it  ?" 

"  Thanks,  I'm  afraid  I'm  engaged  for  it." 

"Then  mayn't  I  find  your  partner  for  you  ?" 

Now  this  second  request,  or  his  anxious  way 
of  making  it,  was  an  elaborate  revelation  to 
Christina,  and  wrote  itself  in  her  brain.  "  Do 
you  remember  Herbert  ?"  she,  however,  simply 
replied.      "  He  is  the  culprit." 

"Your  brother?  Certainly  I  remember 
him.  I  saw  him  a  few  minutes  ago,  and  made 
sure  I  had  seen  him  somewhere  before;  but 
he  looks  older.  I  don't  fancy  he's  dancing. 
He's  somewhere  or  other  with  somebody  in 
red." 

"  So  I  hear." 

"  Then  mayn't  I  have  a  turn  with  you 
before  it  stops  ?" 

She  hesitated  as  long  as  he  had  hesitated 
before  first  askinof  her  ;  there  was  not  time  to 
hesitate  longer.  Then  she  took  his  arm,  and 
they  passed  through  a  narrow  avenue  of  ferns 
and  flowers,  round  a  corner,  up  some  steps, 
and  so  into  the  ball  room. 


58  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

The  waltz  was  indeed  half  over,  but  the 
second  half  of  it  Christina  and  her  fortuitous 
partner  danced  together,  without  a  rest,  and 
also  without  a  word.  He  led  her  a  more 
enterprising  measure  than  those  previous  part- 
ners w^ho  had  questioned  her  concerning 
Australia.  The  name  of  Australia  had  not 
crossed  this  one's  lips.  As  Tiny  whirled  and 
glided  on  his  arm  she  saw  a  good  many  eyes 
upon  her  :  they  made  her  dance  her  best ;  and 
her  best  was  the  best  in  the  room,  though  her 
partner  was  uncommonly  good,  and  they  had 
danced  together  before.  Among  the  eyes 
v/ere  Ruth's,  and  they  were  beaming ;  the 
others  were  mostly  inquisitive,  and  as  strange 
to  Christina  as  she  evidently  was  to  them  ; 
but  once  a  turn  brought  her  face  to  face  with 
Herbert,  on  his  way  from  the  conservatory, 
and  alone.  He  was  a  lanky,  brown-faced, 
hook-nosed  boy,  with  wiry  limbs  and  an 
aggressive  eye,  and  he  followed  his  sister 
round  the  room  with  a  stare  of  which  she  was 
uncomfortably  conscious.  He  had  looked  for 
her  too  late,  when  forced  to  relinquish  the  girl 
in  red  to  her  proper  partner,  who  still  seemed 
put  out.  Christina  was  put  out  also,  by  her 
brother's  look,  but  she  did  not  show  it. 


THE    TAIL    OF   THE   SEASON.  59 

"You  are  staying  In  town?"  her  partner 
said  after  the  dance  as  they  sat  together  in  the 
conservatory,  but  not  in  the  old  corner. 

"Yes,  with  my  sister,  Mrs.  Holland;  you 
never  met  her,  I  think.  We  are  in  town  till 
August." 

"  Where  do  you  go  then  ?" 

"  To  the  country  for  a  month.  My  sister 
and  her  husband  have  taken  a  country  rectory 
for  the  whole  of  August.  They  had  it  last 
year,  and  liked  the  place  so  much  that  they 
have  taken  it  again  ;  it  is  a  little  village  called 
Essinorham." 

"  Essingham  !  "  cried  Christina's  partner. 

"  Yes  ;  do  you  know  it  ?  " 

•'  I  know  of  it,"  answered  the  young  man. 
"  I  suppose  you  will  go  on  the  Continent  after 
that?"  he  added  quickly. 

"Well,  hardly;  my  brother-in-law  has  so 
little  time  ;  but  he  expects  to  have  to  go  to 
Lisbon  on  business  at  the  end  of  October,  and 
he  has  promised  to  take  us  with  him." 

"  To  Lisbon  at  the  end  of  October,"  repeated 
Tiny's  friend  reflectively.  "  Get  him  to  take 
you  to  C intra.  They  say  it's  well  worth 
seeing." 

Yet  another  dance  was  beginning.      Chris- 


6o  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

tina  was  interested  in  the  movements  of  a 
young  man  in  spectacles,  who  was  plainly  in 
search  of  somebody.  "  He's  hunting  for  me," 
she  whispered  to  her  companion,  who  was 
saying : 

"  Portugal's  rather  the  knuckle  end  of 
Europe,  don't  you  think  ?  But  I've  heard 
Cintra  well  spoken  of.  I  should  go  there  if  I 
were  you." 

"  We  intend  to.  Do  you  mind  pulling  that 
young  man's  coat  tails  ?  He  has  forgotten  my 
face." 

"Yes,  I  do  mind,"  said  Tiny's  partner  with 
unexpected  earnestness.  "  I  may  meet  you 
again,  but  I  should  like  to  take  this  opportu- 
nity of  explaining " 

Tiny  Luttrell  was  smiling  in  his  face. 

"  I  hate  explanations  !"  she  cried.  "They 
are  an  insult  to  one's  imagination,  and  I  much 
prefer  to  accept  things  without  them."  There 
was  a  gleam  in  her  smile,  but  as  she  spoke 
she  flashed  it  upon  the  spectacles  of  her  blind 
pursuer,  who  was  squaring  his  arm  to  her  in 
an  instant. 

And  that  was  the  last  she  saw  of  the  only 
partner  for  whom  she  had  a  good  word  after- 
ward, and  he  had  come  to  her  by  accident. 


THE    TAIL   OF   THE   SEASON.  6 1 

But  it  was  by  no  means  the  last  she  heard  of 
him.  The  next  was  from  Herbert,  as  they 
drove  home  together  in  one  hansom,  while 
Ruth  and  her  husband  followed  in  another. 
The  morning  air  blew  fresh  upon  their  faces ; 
the  rising  sun  struck  sparks  from  the  harness  ; 
the  leaves  in  the  park  were  greener  than  any 
in  Australia,  and  the  dew  on  the  grass  through 
the  railings  was  as  a  silver  shower  new-fallen. 
But  the  most  delicious  taste  of  London  that 
had  yet  been  given  her  was  poisoned  for 
Christina  by  her  brother  Herbert. 

"To  have  my  claim  jumped  by  that  joker  !  " 
said  he  through  his  nose. 

■  "  But  you  had  left  it  empty,"  said  Tiny 
mildly.     "  I  was  all  alone." 

"  It  isn't  so  much  that,"  her  brother  said, 
shifting  the  ground  he  had  taken  in  prelimi- 
nary charges  ;  "  it's  your  dancing  with  that 
brute  Manister !" 

"  My  dear  old  Herbs,"  said  Miss  Luttrell 
with  provoking  coolness,  "  Lord  Manister 
asked  me  to  dance  with  him,  and  I  didn't  see 
why  I  should  refuse.  I  certainly  didn't  see 
why  I  should  consult  you,  Herbs." 

"By  ghost,"  cried  Herbert,  "if  it  comes  to 
that,  he  once  asked  you  to  marry  him  !" 


62  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"Now  you  are  a  treat,"  said  the  girl,  before 
the  blood  came. 

"  And  then  bolted  !  I  should  be  ashamed 
of  myself  for  dancing  with  him  if  I  were  you. 
He  said  I  was  a  larrikin,  too.  I'd  like  to  fill 
his  eye  for  him  !  " 

"He'll  never  say  a  truer  thing!"  Christina 
cried  out ;  but  her  voice  broke  over  the  words, 
and  the  early  sun  cut  diamonds  on  her  lashes. 

Now  this  was  Herbert :  he  was  rough,  but 
not  cowardly.  His  nose  had  become  hooked 
in  his  teens  from  a  stand-up  fight  with  a  full- 
grown  man.  There  is  not  the  least  doubt  that 
in  such  a  combat  with  Lord  Manister  that 
nobleman,  though  otherwise  a  finer  athlete, 
would  have  suffered  extremely.  But  it  was 
not  in  Herbert  to  hit  any  woman  in  cold  blood 
with  his  toneue.  Havingr  done  this  in  his  heat 
to  Christina,  his  mate,  he  was  man  enough  to 
be  sorry  and  ashamed,  and  to  slip  her  hands 
into  his, 

"  I'm  an  awful  beast,"  he  stammered  out. 
"  I  didn't  mean  anything  at  all — except  that 
I'd  like  to  fill  up  Manister's  eye  !  I  can't  go 
back  on  that  when — when  he  called  me  a 
larrikin  !  " 


CHAPTER     IV. 

RUTH    AND    CHRISTINA. 

Here  is  the  difference  between  Ruth  and 
Christina,  who  were  considered  so  much  alike. 

Of  the  tv/o,  Ruth  was  the  one  to  fall  in  love 
with  at  sight — of  which  Erskine  Holland  sup- 
plies the  proof.  She  was  less  diminutive  than 
her  sister ;  she  had  a  finer  figure,  a  warmer 
color,  and  indeed,  despite  the  destructive  Aus- 
tralian sun,  a  very  beautiful  complexion.  In 
the  early  days  at  Wallandoon  she  had  given 
herself  a  better  chance  in  this  respect  than 
Christina  had  done,  not  from  vanity  at  all,  but 
rather  owing  to  certain  differences  in  their 
ideas  of  pleasure,  into  which  it  is  needless  to 
enter.  The  result  was  her  complexion;  and 
this  was  not  her  only  beauty,  for  she  had  good 
brown  eyes  that  suited  her  coloring  as  autumn 
leaves  befit  an  autumn  sunset.  These  eyes 
are  never  unkind,  but  Ruth's  were  sweet-tem- 
pered to  a  fault.  So  the  glance  of  one  scan- 
ning both  girls  for  the  first  time  rested 
naturally    upon    Ruth,  but  on  all  subsequent 

«3 


64  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

occasions  it  flew  straight  to  Christina,  because 
there  was  an  end  to  Ruth  ;  but  there  was  no 
coming  to  an  end  of  Tiny,  about  whom  there 
was  ever  some  fresh  thing  to  charm  or  disap- 
point one. 

Thus,  but  for  the  businesslike  dispatch  of 
Erskine  Holland,  it  might  have  been  Ruth's 
fate  to  break  in  Christina's  admirers  until 
Christina  fancied  one  of  them  enough  to  marry 
him.  For  Ruth's  was  perhaps  the  more  unself- 
ish character  of  the  two,  as  it  was  certainly 
the  simpler  one,  in  spite  of  a  peculiar  secretive 
strain  in  her  from  which  Tiny  was  free.  Tiny, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  much  more  sensitive  ; 
but  to  perceive  this  was  to  understand  her 
better  than  she  understood  herself.  For  she 
did  not  know  her  own  weaknesses  as  the  self- 
examining  know  theirs,  and  hardly  anybody 
suspected  her  of  this  one  until  her  arrival  in 
Enoland — when  Erskine  Holland  came  to 
treat  her  as  a  sister,  and  to  understand  her 
more  or  less. 

In  Australia  he  had  seen  very  little  of  her, 
though  enough  to  regard  her  at  the  time  as  an 
arrant  little  heartless  flirt,  for  whom  sighed 
silly  swains  innumerable.  That  she  was, 
indeed,  a  flirt  there  was  still  no  denying  ;  but 


RUTH  AND  CHRISTINA.  65 

as  his  knowledge  of  her  ripened,  Holland  was 
glad  to  unharness  the  opprobrious  epithets 
with  which  Ruth's  sister  had  first  driven  her- 
self into  his  mind.  He  discovered  good  points 
in  Christina,  and  among  them  a  humor  which 
he  had  never  detected  out  in  Australia.  Prob- 
ably his  own  sense  of  it  had  lost  its  edge  out 
there,  for  love-making  blunts  nothing  sooner  ; 
while  Ruth,  for  her  part,  was  naturally  want- 
ing in  humor.  Holland  had  never  been  blind 
to  this  defect  in  his  wife,  but  he  seemed  re- 
signed to  it ;  one  can  conceive  it  to  be  a  merit 
in  the  wife  of  an  amusing  man. 

Some  people  called  Erskine  amusing — it  is 
not  hard  to  win  this  label  from  some  people — 
but  at  any  rate  he  was  never  likely  to  find  it 
dif^cult  to  amuse  Ruth.  Now  no  companion 
in  this  world  is  more  charming  for  all  time 
than  the  person  who  is  content  to  do  the 
laughing.  As  a  novelty,  however,  Christina 
had  her  own  distinctive  attraction  for  Erskine 
Holland.  And  they  got  on  so  well  together 
that  presently  he  saw  more  in  Tiny  than  her 
humor,  which  others  had  seen  befo're  him  ;  he 
saw  that  her  heart  was  softer  than  she  thought ; 
but  he  divined  that  something  had  happened 
to  harden  it. 


66  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  She  has  been  falling  in  love,"  he  said  to 
Ruth — "and  something  has  happened." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  She  has  told 
me  nothing  about  it,"  Ruth  said. 

"  Ah,  she  is  sensitive.  I  can  see  that,  too. 
It's  her  bitterness,  however,  that  makes  me 
think  something  has  turned  out  badly." 

"She  is  sadly  cynical."  remarked  Ruth. 

"  Cynically  sad,  I  rather  think,"  her  husband 
said.  "  I  don't  fancy  she's  languishing  now  ;  I 
should  say  she  has  got  over  the  thing,  what- 
ever it  has  been — and  is  rather  disappointed 
with  herself  for  getting  over  it  so  easily.  She 
has  hinted  at  nothing,  but  she  has  a  trick  of 
generalizing  ;  and  she  affects  to  think  that  one 
person  doesn't  fret  for  another  longer  than  a 
week  in  real  life.  I  don't  say  her  cynicism  is 
so  much  affectation  ;  something  or  other  has 
left  a  bad  taste  in  her  mouth  ;  but  I  should 
like  to  bet  that  it  wasn't  an  affair  of  the  most 
serious  sort." 

"  Her  affairs  never  were  very  serious,  Er- 
skine." 

"  So  I  gathered  from  what  I  saw  of  her 
before  we  were  married.  It's  a  pity,"  said 
Erskine  musingly.  "  I'd  like  to  see  her  mar- 
ried, but  I'd  love  to  see  her  wooed  !     That's 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  6? 

where  the  sport  would  come  in.  There  would 
be  no  knowing  where  the  fellow  had  her.  He 
might  hook  her  by  luck,  but  he'd  have  to  play 
her  like  fun  before  he  landed  her  !  There'd 
be  a  strong  sporting  interest  in  the  whole 
thing,  and  that's  what  one  likes." 

"  It's  a  pity  I  didn't  know  what  you  liked," 
Ruth  said,  with  a  smile;  "and  a  wonder  that 
you  liked  me,  and  not  Tiny!" 

"  My  darling,"  laughed  her  husband,  "  that 
sort  of  sport's  for  the  young  fellows.  I'm  past 
it.  I  merely  meant  that  I  should  like  to  see 
the  sport.  No,  Tiny's  charming  in  her  way, 
but  God  forbid  that  it  should  be  your  way 
too  !  " 

Now  Ruth  was  such  a  fond  little  wife  that 
at  this  speech  she  became  too  much  gratified 
on  her  own  account  to  care  to  discuss  her 
sister  any  further.  But  in  dismissing  the  sub- 
ject of  Tiny  she  took  occasion  to  impress  one 
fact  upon  Erskine  : 

"You  may  be  right,  dear,  and  something 
may  have  happened  since  I  left  home ;  but  I 
can  only  tell  you  that  Tiny  hasn't  breathed  a 
single  word  about  it  to  me." 

And  this  is  an  early  sample  of  the  disin- 
genuous streak  that  was  in  the  very  grain  of 


68  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Ruth.  Christina,  indeed,  had  told  her  nothing, 
but  Ruth  knew  nearly  all  that  there  was  to 
know  of  the  affair  whose  traces  were  plain  to 
her  husband's  insight.  Beyond  the  fact  that 
the  name  of  Tiny  Luttrell  had  been  coupled 
in  Melbourne  with  that  of  Lord  Manister,  and 
the  on  dit  that  Lord  Manister  had  treated  her 
rather  badly,  there  was,  indeed,  very  little  to 
be  known.  But  Ruth  knew  at  least  as  much 
as  her  mother,  who  had  written  to  her  on  the 
subject  the  more  freely  and  frequently  because 
her  younger  daughter  flatly  refused  the  poor 
ladv  her  confidence.  There  was  no  harm  in 
Ruth's  not  showing  those  letters  to  her  hus- 
band. There  was  no  harm  in  her  keeping  her 
sister's  private  affairs  from  her  husband's 
knowledge.  There  was  the  reverse  of  harm 
in  both  reservations,  as  Erskine  would  have 
been  the  first  to  allow.  Ruth  had  her  reasons 
for  making  them  ;  and  if  her  reasons  embodied 
a  deep  design,  there  was  no  harm  in  that 
either,  for  surely  it  is  permissible  to  plot  and 
scheme  for  the  happiness  of  another.  I  can 
see  no  harm  in  her  conduct  from  any  point  of 
view.  But  it  was  certainly  disingenuous,  and 
it  entailed  an  insincere  attitude  toward  two 
people,    which    in    itself   was    not    admirable. 


RUTH  AND    CHRISTINA.  69 

And  those  two  were  her  nearest.  However 
amiable  her  plans  might  be,  they  made  it 
impossible  for  Ruth  to  be  perfectly  sincere 
with  her  husband  on  one  subject,  which  was 
bad  enouofh.  But  with  Christina  it  was  still 
more  impossible  to  be  at  all  candid  ;  and  this 
happened  to  be  worse,  for  reasons  which  will 
be  recognized  later.  In  the  first  place.  Tiny 
immediately  discovered  Ruth's  insincerity,  and 
even  her  plans.  Tiny  was  a  difficult  person 
to  deceive.  She  detected  the  insincerity  in  a 
single  conversation  v^ith  Ruth  on  the  after- 
noon following  Lady  Almeric's  ball,  and  before 
she  went  to  bed  she  v-zas  as  much  in  posses- 
sion of  the  plans  as  if  Ruth  had  told  her 
them. 

The  conversation  took  place  in  Erskine's 
study,  where  the  sisters  had  foregathered  for 
a  lazy  afternoon. 

"Oh,  by  the  way,"  said  Ruth,  apropos  of 
the  ball,  "  it  was  a  coincidence  your  dancing 
with  Lord  Manister." 

"  Why  a  coincidence  ? "  asked  Christina. 
She  glanced  rather  sharply  at  Ruth  as  she 
put  the  question. 

''  Well,  it  is  just  possible  that  we  shall  see 
something  of  him  in  the  country.     That's  all," 


7°  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

said  Ruth,  as  she  bent  over  the  novel  of  which 
she  was  cutting  the  pages. 

Christina  also  had  a  book  in  her  lap,  but 
she  had  not  opened  it ;  she  was  trying  to  read 
Ruth's  averted  face. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  meant  because  we 
saw  somethinof  of  him  in  Melbourne,"  she 
said  presently.  "  I  suppose  you  know  that 
we  did  see  something  of  him  ?  He  even  hon- 
ored us  once  or  twice." 

"  So  you  told  me  in  your  letters." 

The  paper  knife  was  still  at  work. 

"  What  makes  it  likely  that  we  shall  see 
him  in  the  country?" 

"  Well,  Mundham  Hall  is  quite  close  to 
Essingham,  you  know." 

"  Mundham    Hall  !     Whose  place  is  that  ?'' 

"  Lord  Dromard's,"  replied  Ruth,  still  intent 
upon  her  work. 

"  Surely  not !  "  exclaimed  Christina.  "  Lord 
Manister  once  told  me  the  name  of  their  place, 
and  I  am  convinced  it  wasn't  that." 

"They  have  several  places.  But  until  quite 
lately  they  have  lived  mostly  at  the  other  side 
of  the  county,  at  Wreford  Abbey." 

"  That  was  the  name." 

"  But  they  have  sold  that  place,"  said  Ruth, 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  ^1 

"and  last  autumn  Lord  Dromard  bought 
Mundham  ;  it  was  empty  when  we  were  at 
Essingham  last  year." 

For  some  moments  there  was  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  leisurely  swish  of  Ruth's 
paper  knife.  Then  Christina  said,  "  That 
accounts  for  it,"  thinking  aloud. 

"  For  what  ?"  asked  Ruth  rather  nervously. 

**  Lord  Manister  told  me  he  knew  of  Essing- 
ham. He  never  mentioned  Mundham.  Is  it 
so  very  close  to  your  rectory?" 

"  The  grounds  are  ;  they  are  very  big  ;  the 
hall  itself  is  miles  from  the  gates — almost  as 
far  as  our  home  station  was  from  the  boundary 
fence." 

"  Surely  not,"  Tiny  said  quietly. 
■  **  Well,     that's    a    little     exaggeration,     of 
course." 

"  Then  I  wish  it  wasn't  ! "  Tiny  cried  out. 
"  I  don't  relish  the  idea  of  living  under  the  lee 
of  such  very  fine  people,"  she  said  next 
moment,    as    quietly    as    before. 

"  No  more  do  I — no  more  does  Erskine," 
Ruth  made  haste  to  declare.  "  But  we 
enjoyed  ourselves  so  much  there  last  August 
that  we  said  at  the  time  that  we  would  take 
the  rectory  again  this  August.     We  made  the 


72  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

people  promise  us  the  refusal.  And  it  seemed 
absurd  to  refuse  just  because  Lord  Dromard 
had  bouo-ht  Mundham ;  shouldn't  you  have 
said    so    yourself,  dear?" 

"  Certainly  I   should,"  answered  Tiny  ;  and 
for  half  an  hour  no  more  was  said. 

The     afternoon    was    wet ;    there    was     no 
Inducement  to  go  out,   even   with  the   neces- 
sary   energy,  and   the  two  young  women,  on 
whose   pillows  the  sun   had  lain  before  their 
faces,  felt  anything  but  energetic.     The  after- 
noon was  also  cold  to  Australian  blood,  and  a 
fire  had  been   liorhted  in  Erskine's  den.      His 
favorite  armchair  contained  several  cushions 
and  Christina — who  might  as  well   have  worn 
his    boots — while    Ruth,    having    cut    all    the 
leaves  of  her  volume,  curled  herself  up  on  the 
sofa  with  an  obvious  intention.     She  was  good 
at  cutting  the  leaves  of  a  new  book,  but  still 
better  at  going  to  sleep  over  them  when  cut. 
She  had  read  even  less  than  Christina,  and  it 
troubled  her  less ;  but  this  afternoon  she  read 
more.     Ruth  could  not  sleep.     No  more  could 
Tiny.     But  Tiny  had   not  opened   her  book. 
It  was  one  of  the  good  books    that  Erskine 
had  lent  her.      She  was  extremely  interested 
in  it ;    but   just    at    present    her   own    affairs 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  73 

interested  her  more.  Lying  back  in  the  big 
chair,  with  the  wet  gray  light  behind  her,  and 
that  of  the  fire  playing  fitfully  over  her  face, 
Christina  committed  what  was  as  )et  an  unu- 
sual weakness  for  her,  by  giving  way  volunta- 
rily to  her  thoughts.  She  was  In  the  habit  of 
thinking  as  little  as  possible,  because  so  many 
of  her  thoughts  were  depressing  company, 
and  beyond  all  things  she  disliked  being 
depressed.  This  afternoon  she  was  less 
depressed  than  indignant.  'I  he  firelight 
showed  her  forehead  strung  with  furrows. 
From  time  to  time  she  turned  her  eyes  to  the 
sofa,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  Ruth  was  still 
awake,  and  as  often  as  they  rested  there  they 
gleamed.     At  last  she  spoke  Ruth's  name. 

"  Well  ?"  said  Ruth.  "  I  thought  you  were 
asleep  ;  you  have  never  stirred." 

"  I'm  not  sleepy,  thanks  ;  and,  if  you  don't 
mind,  I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  before 
you  drop  off  yourself." 

Ruth  closed  her  novel. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?     I'm  listening." 

"  When  you  wrote  and  invited  me  over 
you  mentioned  Essingham  as  one  of  the 
attractions.  Now  why  couldn't  you  tell  me 
the  Dromards  would  be  our  neighbors  there?" 


74  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Ruth  raised  her  eyes  from  the  younger  girl's 
face  to  the  rain-spattered  window.  Tin/s  tone 
was  cold,  but  not  so  cold  as  Tiny's  searching 
glance.  This  made  Ruth  uncomfortable.  It 
did  not  incapacitate  her,  however. 

"  The  Dromards  : "  she  exclaimed  rather 
well.      "  Had  they  taken  the  place  then  ?" 

"  You  say  they  bought  it  before  Christmas  ; 
it  was  after  Christmas  that  you  first  wrote 
and  expressly  invited  me." 

"  Was  it  ?  Well,  my  dear,  I  suppose  I 
never  thought  of  them ;  that's  all.  They 
aren't  the  only  nice  people  thereabouts." 

"I'm  afraid  you  are  not  quite  frank  with 
me,"  the  young  girl  said ;  and  her  own  frank- 
ness was  a  little  painful. 

"  Tiny,  dear,  what  a  thing  to  say  !  What 
does  it  mean  ?" 

Ruth  employed  for  these  words  the  injured 
tone. 

"  It  means  that  you  know  as  well  as  I  do, 
Ruth,  that  it  isn't  pleasant  for  me  to  meet 
Lord  Manister." 

^^  Was  there  something  between  you  in 
Melbourne?'*  asked  Ruth.  "  I  must  say  that 
nobody  would  have  thought  so  from  seeing 
you  together  last  night.     And — and  how  was 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  75 

I  to  think  so,  when  you  have  never  told  me 
anything  about  it  ?" 

Christina  laughed  bitterly. 

"  When  you  have  made  a  fool  of  yourself 
you  don't  go  out  of  your  way  to  talk  about  it, 
even  to  your  own  people.  It  is  kind  of  you 
to  pretend  to  know  nothing  about  it — I  am 
sure  you  mean  it  kindly  ;  but  I'm  still  surer 
that  you  have  been  told  all  there  was  to  tell 
concernine  Lord  Manister  and  me.  I  don't 
mean  by  Herbert.  He's  close.  But  the 
mother  must  have  written  and  told  you  some- 
thing ;  it  was  only  natural  that  she  should  do 


so. 


"  She  did  tell  me  a  little.  Herbert  has  told 
me  nothing.  I  tried  to  pump  him, —  I  think 
you  can't  wonder  at  that, — but  he  refused  to 
speak  a  word  on  the  subject.  He  says  he 
hates  it." 

"  He  hates  Lord  Manister,"  said  Christina, 
smiling.  "  It  came  round  to  him  once  that 
Lord  Manister  had  called  him  a  larrikin,  and 
he  has  never  forgiven  him.  But  he  has  been 
less  of  a  larrikin  ever  since.  And,  of  course, 
that  wasn't  why  he  was  so  angry  with  me  for 
dancing  with  Lord  Manister  last  night  ;  he 
was  dreadfully   angry  with   me  as  we  drove 


76  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

hc/m^  ,  but  he  is  a  very  good  boy  to  me,  and 
there  was  something  in  what  he  said." 

"  What  made  you  dance  with  him?"  Ruth 
said  curiously. 

"  I  was  alone.  I  hadn't  a  partner.  He 
asked  me  rather  prettily — he  always  had 
pretty  manners.  You  wouldn't  have  had  me 
show  him  I  cared,  by  snubbing  him,  would 
you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Ruth  thoughtfully ;  and  sud- 
denly she  slipped  from  the  sofa,  and  was 
kneelino-  on  the  hearthrug,  with  her  brown 
eyes  softly  searching  Christina's  face  and  her 
lips  whispering,  "Do  you  care.  Tiny?  Do 
you  care.  Tiny,  dear  ?  " 

Tiny  snapped  her  fingers  as  she  pushed 
back  her  chair. 

"  Not  that  much  for  anybody — much  less 
for  Lord  Manister,  and  least  of  all  for  myself ! 
Now  don't  you  be  too  good  to  me,  Ruth  ;  if 
you  are  you'll  only  make  me  feel  ungrateful, 
and  I  shall  run  away,  because  I'm  not  going 
to  tell  you  another  word  about  what's  over 
and  done  with.  I  can't !  I  have  got  over 
the  whole  thing,  but  it  has  been  a  sickener. 
It  makes  me  sick  to  think  about  it.  I  don't 
want  ever  to  speak  of  it  again." 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  77 

'*  I  understand,"  said  Ruth  ;  but  there  was 
disappointment  in  her  look  and  tone,  and  she 
added,  "  I  should  like  to  have  heard  the  truth, 
though  ;  and  no  one  can  tell  it  me  but  you." 

"I  thank  Heaven  for  that!"  cried  Chris- 
tina piously.  "The  version  out  there  was 
that  he  proposed  to  me  and  I  accepted  him, 
and  then  he  bolted  without  even  saying  good- 
by.  It's  true  that  he  didn't  say  good-by  ; 
the  rest  is  not  true.  But  you  must  just  make 
it  do." 

Her  face  was  scarlet  with  the  shame  of  it 
all  ;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  weakness  in  the 
curling  lips.  She  spoke  bitterly,  but  not  at  all 
sadly,  and  her  next  words  were  still  more  sug- 
gestive of  a  wound  to  the  vanity  rather  than 
to  the  heart. 

"Does  Erskine  know?" 

"  Not  a  word." 

"  Honestly?" 

"  Quite  honestly ;  at  least  I  have  never 
mentioned  it  to  him,  and  I  don't-  think  any- 
body else  has,  or  lie  would  have  mentioned  it 
to  me." 

"Oh,  Herbert  wouldn't  say  anything.  Her- 
bert's very  close.  But — don't  you  two  tell 
each  other  everything,  Ruth?" 


7S  TINY  UITTRELL. 

The  young  girl  looked  incredulous ;  the 
married  woman  smiled. 

"  Hardly  everything,  you  know  !  Erskine 
has  lots  of  relations  himself,  for  instance,  and 
I'm  sure  he  wouldn't  care  to  tell  me  the  ins 
and  outs  of  their  private  affairs,  even  if  I 
cared  to  know  them.  It's  just  the  same  about 
you  and  your  affairs,  don't  you  see." 

"  Except  that  he  knows  me  so  well,"  Chris- 
tina reflected  aloud,  with  her  eyes  upon  the  fire. 
"  If  I  had  a  husband,"  she  added  impulsively, 
"  I  should  like  to  tell  him  every  mortal  thing, 
whether  I  wanted  to  or  not !  And  I  should 
like  not  to  want  to,  but  to  be  made.  But  that's 
because  I  should  like  above  all  thino-s  to  be 
bossed  !" 

"  You  would  take  some  bossing,"  suggested 
Ruth. 

"  That's  the  Avorst  of  it,"  said  Christina, 
with  a  little  sigh,  and  then  a  laugh,  as  she 
snatched  her  eyes  from  the  fire.  "  But  I  can't 
tell  you  how  glad  I  am  you  haven't  told 
Erskine.  Never  tell  him,  Ruth,  for  you  don't 
know  how  I  covet  his  good  opinion.  I  like 
him,  you  know,  dear,  and  I  rather  think  he 
likes  me — so  far." 

"  Indeed  he  does,"  cried  Ruth  warmly ;  and 


RUTH  AND    CHRISTINA.  79 

a  good  point  in  her  character  stood  out  through 
the  genuine  words.  "  Nothing  ever  made  me 
happier  than  to  see  you  become  such  friends." 

"  He  laughs  at  me  a  good  deal,"  Tiny 
remarked  doubtfully. 

"  That's  because  you  amuse  him  a  good 
deal.   I  can't  get  him  to  laugh  at  me,  my  dear." 

"He  would  laugh,"  said  Christina,  with  her 
eyes  on  the  fire  again,  "  if  you  told  him  I  had 
aspired  to  Lord  Manister!" 

"But  I'm  not  going  to  tell  him  anything  at 
all  about  it."  Ruth  paused.  "And  after  all, 
the  Dromards  won't  take  any  notice  of  us  in 
the  country."  She  paused  again.  "  And  we 
won't  speak  of  this  any  more,  Tiny,  if  you 
don't  like." 

The  shame  had  come  back  to  Christina's 
face  as  she  bent  it  toward  the  fire.  Twice 
she  had  made  no  answer  to  what  was  kindly 
meant  and  even  kindlier  said.  But  now  she 
turned  and  kissed  Ruth,  saying,  "  Thank  you, 
dear.  I  am  afraid  I  don't  like.  But  you  have 
been  awfully  good  and  sweet  about  it — as 
I  shan't  forget."  And  the  fire  lit  their  faces 
as  they  met,  but  the  tear  that  had  got  upon 
Tiny's  cheek  was  not  her  own, 

Ruth,  you  see,  could  be  tender  and  sympa- 


8o  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

thetic  and  genuine  enough.     But    she    could 
not  be  sensible  and  let  well  alone. 

She  did  that  night  a  very  foolish  thing  :  she 
brought  up  the  subject  again.  Tempted  she 
certainly  was.  Never  since  her  arrival  in 
England  had  Tiny  seemed  so  near  to  her  or 
she  to  Tiny  as  in  the  hours  immediately  fol- 
lowing the  chat  between  them  in  Erskine's 
study.  But  Christina  stood  further  from  Ruth 
than  Ruth  imagined  ;  she  had  not  advanced, 
but  retreated,  before  the  glow  of  Ruth's  sym- 
pathy. This  was  after  the  event,  when  some 
hours  separated  Christina  from  those  emotional 
moments  to  which  she  had  not  contributed  her 
share  of  the  emotion,  leaving  the  scene  upon 
her  mind  in  just  perspective.  She  still  could 
value  Ruth's  sweetness  at  the  end  of  their 
talk,  but  her  own  suspicions,  aroused  at  the 
outset,  to  be  immediately  killed  by  a  little 
kindness,  had  come  to  life  again,  and  were 
calling  for  an  equal  appreciation.  The  extent 
of  Tiny's  suspicions  was  very  full,  and  the 
suspicions  themselves  were  uncommonly 
shrewd  and  convincing.  They  made  it  a  little 
hard  to  return  Ruth's  smiles  during  the  even- 
ing, and  to  kiss  her  when  saying  good-night, 
though  Tiny  did  these  things  duly.     She  went 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  8l 

Upstairs  before  her  time,  however,  and  not  at 
all  in  the  mood  to  be  bothered  any  further 
about  Lord  Manister.  Yet  she  behaved  very 
patiently  when  Ruth  came  presently  to  her 
room  and  thus  bothered  her,  being  suddenly 
tempted  beyond  her  strength.  For  Christina 
was  discovered  standing  fully  dressed  under 
the  gas-bracket,  and  frowning  at  a  certain  pho- 
tograph on  an  orange-colored  mount,  which 
she  turned  face  downward  as  Ruth  entered. 
Whereupon  Ruth,  discerning  the  sign  man- 
ual of  a  Melbourne  photographer,  could  not 
help  saying  slyly,  "  Who  is  it.  Tiny  ?  " 

"  A  friend  of  mine,"  Tiny  said,  also  slyly, 
but  keeping  the  photograph  itself  turned  pro- 
vokingly  to  the  fioor, 

"  In  Australia  ?  " 

"  Er — it  was  taken  out  there." 

"  It's  Lord  Manister  !  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is — perhaps  it  isn't."  . 

"  Tiny,"  said  Ruth  with  pathos,  "  you 
might  show  me  !  " 

But  Tiny  drummed  vexatiously  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  mount  ;  and  here  Ruth  surely  should 
have  let  the  matter  drop,  instead  of  which  : 

"You  are  very  horrid,"  she  said,  "but  I 
must  just   tell  you  something.      I  have  heard 


82  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

things  from  Lady  Almeric,  who  is  very 
intimate  with  Lady  Dromard,  and  I  don't 
beHeve  he  is  so  much  to  blame  as  you  think 
him.  I  have  heard  it  spoken  about  in  society. 
But  don't  look  frightened.  Your  name  has 
never  been  mentioned.  I  don't  think  it  has 
ever  come  out.  Indeed,  I  know  it  hasn't,  for 
/,  actually,  have  been  asked  the  name  of  the 
girl  Lord  Manister  was  fond  of  in  Melbourne 
— by  Lady  Almeric  !  " 

"  And  what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  suppose  ?  I  glory  in  that 
fib — I  am  honestly  proud  of  it.  But,  dear,  the 
point  is,  not  that  Lord  Manister  has  never 
mentioned  your  name,  but  that  he  can  bear 
neither  name  nor  sight  of  the  girl  he  is 
expected  to  marry !  Lady  Almeric  told 
me  when — I  couldn't  help  her." 

"He  is  a  nice  young  man,  I  must  say!" 
remarked  Christina  griml}^  "  My  fellow- 
victim  has  a  title,  no  doubt  ?" 

"  Well,  it's  Miss  Garth,  and  her  father's 
Lord  Acklam,  so  she's  the  honorable,"  said 
Ruth  gravely.  (Tiny  smiled  at  her  gravity.) 
"  But  I've  seen  her,  and — he  can't  like  her  ! 
And  oh  !  Tiny  dear,  they  all  say  he  left  his 
heart  in  Australia,  but  his  mother  sent  for  him 


RUTH  AND   CHRISTINA.  83 

because  she  heard  something — but  not  your 
name,  dear — and  he  came.  They  say  he  is 
devoted  to  his  mother;  but  this  has  come 
between  them,  and  she's  sorry  she  interfered, 
because  after  all  he  won't  marry  poor  Miss 
Garth.  I  had  it  direct  from  Lady  Almeric 
when  she  tried  to  get  that  out  of  me.  But  I 
lied  like  a  trooper  !  "  exclaimed  poor  Ruth. 

"  I'm  grateful  to  you  for  that,"  Christina 
said,  not  ungraciously — "  but  I  must  reJly  be 
going  to  bed." 

With  a  last  wistful  glance  at  the  orange- 
colored  cardboard,  Ruth  took  the  hint. 
Christina  turned  away  in  time  to  avoid  an 
embrace  without  showing  her  repugnance, 
because  she  had  still  some  regard  for  Ruth's 
good  heart.  But  she  had  never  experienced  a 
more  grateful  riddance,  and  the  look  that  fol- 
lowed Ruth  to  the  threshold  would  have  kept 
her  company  for  some  time  had  she  turned 
there  and  caught  one  glimpse  of  it. 

"  Now  I  understand  !"  said  Christina  to  the 
closed  door.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  love  you 
for  it,  Ruth  ;  but  I  don't — no,  I  don't  !" 

She  turned  the  photograph  face  upward, 
and  stared  thoughtfully  at  it  for  some  minutes 
longer ;  then  she  put  it  away. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ESSINGHAM    RECTORY. 

EssiNGHAM  Rectory,  which  the  Erskine  Hol- 
lands had  taken  for  the  month  of  August,  was 
a  little  old  building  with  some  picturesque 
points  to  console  one  for  the  tameness  of  the 
view  from  its  windows.  The  surrounding 
country  was  perfectly  flat  but  for  Gallow  Hill, 
and  not  at  all  green  but  for  the  glebe  and  the 
riverside  meadows,  while  the  only  trees  of  any 
account  were  the  rectory  elms  and  those  in 
the  Mundham  grounds.  It  is  true  that  on 
Gallow  Hill  three  wind-crippled  beeches  bran- 
dished their  deformities  against  the  sky,  as 
they  may  do  still ;  but  the  country  around 
Essingham  is  no  country  for  trees.  It  is  the 
country  for  warrens  and  rabbits  and  roads 
without  hedges.  So  it  struck  Christina  as 
more  like  the  back-blocks  than  anything  she 
had  hoped  to  see  in  England,  and  pleased  her 
more  than  anything  she  had  seen.  She 
showed  her  pleasure  before   they  arrived   at 

84 


ES SINGH  AM  RECTORY.  85 

Essingham.  She  forgot  to  disparage  the  old 
country  during  the  long  drive  from  the  county- 
town  ;  and  that  was  notable.  She  had  actu- 
ally no  stone  to  cast  at  the  elaborate  and 
impressive  gates  of  Mundham  Hall ;  appa- 
rently she  was  herself  impressed.  But  oppo- 
site the  gates  they  turned  to  the  left,  into  a 
narrow  road  with  hedges,  from  which  you  can 
see  the  rectory,  and  as  Herbert  put  it  after- 
ward : 

"That's  what  knocked  our  Tiny  !" 
For  the  girl's  first  glimpse  of  the  old  house 
was  over  the  hedge  and  far  away  above  a  bril- 
liant sash  of  meadow  green.  The  cream- 
colored  walls  were  aglow  in  the  low  late  sun- 
shine, what  was  to  be  seen  of  them,  for  they 
were  half  hidden  by  a  creeper  almost  as  old  as 
themselves.  The  red-tiled,  weather-beaten 
roof  was  dark  with  age.  Even  at  a  distance 
one  smelt  rats  in  the  wainscot  within  the 
stuccoed  walls.  Around  the  house,  and  tow- 
ering above  the  tiles,  the  elms  stood  as  still 
against  the  evening  sky  as  the  square  church 
tower  but  a  little  way  to  the  right.  To  the 
right  of  that,  but  farther  away,  rose  Gallow 
Hill.  Thereabouts  the  sun  was  sinking,  but 
the  clock  on  the  near  side  of  the  church  tower 


86  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

had  gilt  hands,  which  marked  the  hour  when 
Christina  stood  up  in  the  fly  and  astonished 
her  friends  with  her  frank  deHght.  It  was  a 
point  against  this  young  lady,  on  subsequent 
occasions  when  she  did  not  forget  to  decry  the 
old  country,  that  at  ten  minutes  past  seven 
on  the  evening  of  the  ist  of  August  she  had 
given  way  to  enthusiasm  over  a  scene  that  was 
purely  English  and  very  ordinary  in  itself. 

Not  that  her  immediate  appreciation  of  the 
place  became  modified  on  a  closer  acquaint- 
ance with  it.  At  the  end  of  the  first  clear 
day  at  Essingham  she  informed  the  others 
that  thus  far  she  had  not  enjoyed  herself  so 
much  since  leaving  Australia.  Of  course  she 
had  enjoyed  herself  in  London,  That  did  not 
count.  London  only  compared  itself  with 
Melbourne,  Christina  did  not  care  how  favor- 
ably ;  but  Essingham  was  for  comparison  with 
the  place  that  was  dearer  to  her  than  any 
other  in  the  world.  You  will  understand  why 
all  her  appreciations  were  directly  comparative. 
This  is  natural  in  the  very  young,  and  fortu- 
nately Tiny  Luttrell  was  still  very  young  in 
some  respects.  Blessed  with  observant  eyes, 
and  having  at  this  time  an  irritable  memory 
to  keep  her  prejudices  at  attention,  her  mind 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  87 

soon  became  the  scene  of  many  curious  and 
specific  contests  between  England  and  Aus- 
tralia. In  the  match  between  Wallandoon  and 
Essingham  the  latter  made  a  better  fight  than 
you  would  think  against  so  strong  an  oppo- 
nent. The  rectory  was  homely  and  conven- 
ient in  its  old  age,  and  Christina  was  greatly 
charmed  with  her  own  room,  because  it  was 
small  ;  and  if  the  wall-paper  was  modern  and 
conventional,  and  not  to  be  read  from  the  pil- 
low in  the  early  morning,  it  was  almost  as 
pleasant  to  lie  and  watch  the  elm  tops  trem- 
bling against  the  sky.  And  if  the  sky  was  not 
really  blue  in  England,  the  leaves  in  Austra- 
lia were  not  really  green,  as  Christina  now 
knew.  So  there  they  were  quits.  But  Eng- 
land and  Essingham  scored  palpably  in  some 
things  ;  the  kitchen  garden  was  one.  Chris- 
tina had  never  seen  such  a  kitchen  garden  ; 
she  found  it  possible  to  spend  half  an  hour 
there  at  any  time,  to  her  further  contentment ; 
and  there  were  other  attractions  on  the  prem- 
ises, which  were  just  as  good  in  their  wa3% 
while  their  way  was  often  better  for  one. 

For  instance,  there  was  a  lawn  tennis  court 
which  satisfied  the  soul  of  Erskine,  who  played 
daily  for  its  express   refreshment.     That  was 


88  TINY  LUTTRELL 

what  brought  him  to  Essingham.  The  neigh- 
boring clergy  were  always  ready  for  a  game. 
But  they  laughed  at  Erskine  for  being  so 
keen  ;  he  would  get  up  before  breakfast  to  roll 
the  court,  which  passed  their  understanding. 
Christina  played  also,  by  no  means  ill,  and 
Herbert  uncommonly  well  ;  but  this  player 
neither  won  nor  lost  very  prettily.  He  was 
more  amiable  over  the  photography  which  he 
had  taken  up  in  partnership  with  Tiny  ;  but 
his  photographs  were  uncommonly  bad.  Yet 
this  was  another  amusement  in  the  country, 
where,  however,  Christina  was  most  amused 
by  the  neighbors  who  called.  These  were 
friendly  people,  and  they  had  all  called  on  the 
Hollands  the  previous  year.  Half  of  them 
were  clergymen,  though  the  stranger  who  met 
them  found  this  difficult  to  believe  in  some 
cases  ;  the  other  half  were  the  clergymen's 
wives.  Very  grand  families  apart,  there  is  no 
other  society  round  about  Essingham.  And 
what  could  man  wish  better  ?  Even  Christina 
found  it  impossible  to  disapprove  of  the  well- 
bred,  easy-going,  tennis-playing,  unprofes- 
sional country  clergy,  as  acquaintances  and 
friends.  But  she  did  find  fault  with  the  rec- 
tor of  Essingham   as  a  rector,  though  she  had 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  89 

never  seen  him,  and  though  Ruth  assured  her 
that  he  was  a  dear  old  man. 

"  He  may  be  a  dear  old  man,"  Miss  Luttrell 
would  allow,  "  but  he's  a  bad  old  rector  !  His 
flock  don't  find  him  such  a  dear  old  man, 
either.  They  only  see  him  once  a  week,  in 
the  pulpit ;  and  then  they  can't  hear  him  !  " 

"  Who  has  been  telling  you  that,  Tiny  ? " 
asked  Ruth. 

"You've  been  talking  sedition  in  the  vil- 
lage !"  said  Erskine  Holland. 

"  Well,  I've  been  making  friends  with  two 
or  three  of  the  people,  if  that' s  what  you  call 
talking  sedition,"  Tiny  replied;  "  and  I  think 
your  dear  old  rector  neglects  them  shamefully. 
He  does  worse  than  that.  There's  some  fund 
or  other  for  buying  coals  and  blankets  for  the 
poor  of  the  parish  ;  and  there's  old  Mrs.  Clap- 
perton.  Mrs.  Clapperton's  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic ;  so,  if  you  please,  she  never  gets  her  coals 
or  blankets,  and  she's  too  proud  to  ask  for 
them.  That's  a  fact — and  I  tell  you  what,  I'd 
like  to  expose  your  dear  old  man,  Ruth  !  As 
for  the  village,  if  it's  a  specimen  of  your 
English  villages,  let  me  tell  you,  Erskine,  that 
it's  leagues  behind  the  average  bush  township. 
Why,  they  haven't  even  got  a  state  school, 


90  TINY  LUTTRELL, 

but  only  a  one-horse  affair  run  by  the  rector! 
And  the  schoohiiaster's  the  most  ignorant  man 
in  the  village.  I  wonder  you  don't  copy  us, 
and  go  in  for  state  schools  !  " 

"  '  Copy  us,  and  go  in  for  state  schools,' " 
echoed  Ruth  with  gentle  mirth,  as  she  some- 
times would  echo  Tiny's  remarks,  and  with  a 
smile  that  traveled  from  Tiny  to  Erskine. 
But  Erskine  did  not  return  the  smile.  His 
eyes  rested  shrewdly  upon  Christina,  and 
Ruth  feared  from  their  expression  that  he 
thought  the  girl  an  utter  fool ;  but  she  was 
wrong. 

Christina  was  not,  if  you  like,  an  intellectual 
girl,  but  she  was  by  no  means  a  fool.  Neither 
was  her  brother-in-law,  who  perceived  this. 
Her  comments  on  the  books  he  lent  her  were 
sufficiently  intelligent,  and  she  pleased  him  in 
other  ways  too.  He  was  glad,  for  instance, 
to  see  her  interesting  herself  in  the  local  peas- 
ants ;  he  was  particularly  glad  that  she  did 
not  give  this  interest  its  head,  though  as  a 
matter  of  fact  it  never  pulled.  Christina  was 
not  the  girl  for  interests  that  gallop  and  have 
not  legs.  Not  the  least  of  her  attractions,  in 
the  eyes  of  a  male  relative  of  middle  age,  was 
a  certain   solid   sanity  that    showed    through 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  91 

ever}^  crevice  of  her  wayward  nature.  It  was 
sanity  of  the  cynical  sort,  which  men  appre- 
ciate most.  And  it  was  least  apparent  in  her 
own  actions,  which  is  the  weak  point  of  the 
cynically  sane. 

"  At  all  events.  Tiny,  you  can't  find  the 
country  a  tight  fit,  like  London,"  said  Erskine 
once,  during  the  first  few  days.  "  Come, 
now ! 

"No,"  replied  Tiny  thoughtfully,  "I  must 
own  it  doesn't  fit  so  tigrht.  But  it  tickles ! 
You  mayn't  go  here  and  you  mayn't  go  there ; 
in  Australia  you  may  go  anywhere  you  darn 
please.  Excuse  me,  Erskine,  but  I  feel  this  a 
good  deal.  Only  this  morning  Ruth  and  I 
were  blocked  by  a  notice  board  just  outside 
the  wicket  at  the  far  end  of  the  churchyard  ; 
we  were  thinking  of  going  up  Gallow  Hill, 
but  we  had  to  turn  back,  as  trespassers  would 
be  prosecuted.  There's  no  trespassing  where 
I  come  from.  And  Ruth  says  the  board  wasn't 
there  last  year." 

"  Ah,  the  Dromards  weren't  there  last  year  ! 
They've  stuck  it  up.  You  should  pitch  into 
your  friend  Lord  Manister.  It's  rather  vexa- 
tious of  them,  I  grant  you  ;  they  can't  want  to 
have   tea  on    Gallow   Hill ;  and   it's   a   pity, 


92  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

because  there's  a  fine  view  of  the  Hall  from 
the  top." 

"Indeed?  Ruth  never  told  me  that," 
remarked  Christina  curiously.  "  Have  they 
arrived  yet  ?  "  slie  added  in  apparent  idleness. 

"  Last  night,  I  hear — if  you  mean  the 
Dromards.  And  a  rumor  has  arrived  with 
them." 

Now  Christina  was  careful  not  to  inquire 
what  the  rumor  was;  but  Erskine  told  her  ; 
and,  oddly  enough,  what  he  had.  heard  and 
now  repeated  was   to  come  true  immediately. 

The  great  family  at  Mundham  were  about 
to  entertain  the  county.  That  was  the  whis- 
per, which  was  presently  to  be  spoken  aloud  as 
a  pure  fact.  It  ran  over  the  land  with  "  At 
last !  "  hissing  at  its  heels,  and  a  still  more  sin- 
ister whisper  chased  the  pair  of  them  ;  for  the 
Dromards  might  have  entertained  the  county 
months  before  ;  a  house-warming  had  been 
expected  of  them  in  the  winter,  but  they  had 
chosen  to  warm  Mundham  with  their  own 
friends  from  a  distance ;  and  since  then  the 
general  election  had  become  a  moral  certainty 
for  the  following  spring,  and — the  point  was — 
Viscount  Manister  had  declared  his  willing- 
ness to  stand  for  the  division.     The  corollary 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  93 

was  irresistible,  but  so,  it  appears,  was  Countess 
Dromard's  invitation,  which  few  are  beHeved 
to  have  declined — for  those  tliat  did  so  made 
it  known.  Some  disgust,  however,  was  ex- 
pressed at  the  kind  of  entertainment,  which, 
after  all,  was  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  garden 
party.  But  nearly  all  who  were  bidden 
accepted.  The  notice,  too,  was  shorter  than 
other  people  would  have  presumed  to  give ; 
but  other  people  were  not  the  Dromards. 
The  countess'  invitation  conveyed  to  a  hun- 
dred country  homes  a  joy  that  was  none  the 
less  keen  for  a  certain  shame  or  shyness  in 
showing  any  sort  of  satisfaction  in  so  small  a 
matter.  Nevertheless,  though  not  adorned  by 
a  coronet,  as  it  might  have  been,  nor  in  any 
way  a  striking  trophy,  the  card  obtained  a 
telling  position  over  many  a  rectory  chimney- 
piece,  where  in  some  instances  it  remained, 
accidentally,  for  months.  In  justice  to  the 
residents,  however,  it  must  be  owned  that  not 
one  of  them  read  it  with  a  more  poignant 
delight,  nor  adjusted  it  in  the  mirror  with  a 
nicer  care  and  a  finer  show  of  carelessness,  nor 
gazed  at  it  oftener  while  ostensibly  looking  at 
the  clock,  than  did  Mrs.  Erskine  Holland  dur- 
ing the  next  ten  days. 


94  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

But  when  it  came  she  acted  cleverly.  There 
was  occasion  for  all  her  cleverness,  because  in 
her  case  the  invitation  was  a  complete  surprise  ; 
she  had  not  dared  to  expect  one  ;  and  you  may 
imagine  her  peculiar  satisfaction  at  receiving  an 
invitation  that  embraced  her  "  party."  Yet  she 
was  able  to  toss  the  card  across  the  breakfast 
table  to  Erskine,  merely  remarking,  "  Should 
we  go  ?  "  And  when  Tiny  at  once  stated  that 
for  her  part  she  was  not  keen,  Ruth  gave  her 
a  sympathetic  look,  as  much  as  to  say,  *'  No 
more  am  I,  my  dear,"  which  might  have 
deceived  a  less  discerning  person.  But  Tiny 
saw  that  her  sister  was  holding  her  breath 
until  Erskine  spoke  his  mind. 

"  Have  we  any  other  engagement  ? "  said 
he  directly.  "If  not,  it  would  hardly  do  to 
stick  here  playing  tennis  within  sight  of  their 
lodge.  I'm  no  more  keen  than  you  are.  Tiny, 
but  that  would  look  uncommon  poor.  It  was 
very  kind  of  them  to  think  of  asking  us  ;  I'm 
afraid  we  must  go  ;  but  I  am  sure  you  will 
find  it  amusing." 

"  Thanks,"  replied  Christina,  to  whom  this 
assurance  was  addressed,  "  but  you  needn't 
send  me  there  to  be  amused  ;  you  see,  I  have 
plenty  to  amuse   me  here/'  she  added,  with  a 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  95 

smile  that  had  been  slow  to  come.  "  I'll 
go,  of  course,  and  with  pleasure  ;  but  there 
would  be  more  pleasure  in  some  hard  sets 
with  you,  Erskine,  or  in  taking  your  photo- 
graph." 

"Ah,  you  don't  know  what  you'd  miss, 
Tiny  !  I  can  promise  you  some  sport,  if  you 
keep  your  eyes  and  ears  open.  Then  you 
knew  Lord  Manister  in  Melbourne.  In  any 
case,  you  oughtn't  to  go  back  there  without  a 
glimpse  of  some  of  our  fine  folks  at  home, 
when  you  can  get  it." 

"  Oh,  I'll  go  ;  but  not  for  the  sport  of  see- 
ing your  clergy  and  gentry  on  their  knees  to 
your  fine  folks,  nor  yet  to  be  amused.  As  for 
Lord  Manister,  he  was  well  enough  in  Mel- 
bourne ;  he  didn't  give  himself  airs,  and  there 
he  was  wise.  But  on  his  native  heath  !  One 
would  be  sorry  to  set  foot  on  the  same  soil. 
It  must  be  sacred." 

"  Come,  I  say,  I  don't  think  you'll  find  the 
parsons  on  their  knees.  We  think  a  lot  of  a 
lord,  if  you  like  ;  but  we  try  to  forget  that 
when  we're  talking  to  him.  We  do  our  best 
to  treat  him  as  though  he  were  merely  a 
gentleman,  you  know,"  said  Erskine,  smiling, 
but  giving,  as  he  felt,  an  informing  hint. 


96  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"Ah,  you  try  !"  said  Christina.  "You  do 
your  best !  " 

"Our  best  may  be  very  bad,"  laughed 
Erskine  ;  "  if  so,  you  must  show  us  how  to 
better  it,  Tiny." 

"  I  should  get  Tiny  to  teach  you  how  to 
treat  a  lord,  dear,"  said  Ruth,  who  saw 
nothing  to  laugh  at,  and  seemed  likely  to  lend 
her  husband  a  severer  support  than  the  occa- 
sion needed. 

"  Say  Lord  Manister  !  "  suggested  Erskine. 
''Will  you  show  me  on  him?" 

"  I  may  if  you're  good — you  wait  and  see," 
said  Tiny  lightly.  And  lightly  the  matter 
was  allowed  to  drop.  For  Herbert,  as  usual, 
was  late  for  breakfast,  which  was  for  once  a 
very  good  thing  ;  and  as  for  Ruth,  it  was 
merely  her  misfortune  to  have  a  near  sight  for 
the  line  dividing  chaff  from  earnest,  but  now 
she  saw  it,  and  on  which  side  of  it  the  others 
were,  for  she  had  joined  them  and  was  laugh- 
ing herself. 

But  Herbert  would  not  have  laughed  at  all ; 
indeed,  he  had  not  a  smile  for  the  subject 
when  he  did  come  down  and  Ruth  orave  him 
his  breakfast  alone.  It  seemed  well  that 
Christina  was  not   in  the  room.      Her  brother 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  97 

took    the    opportunity    of    saying    what    he 
thought  of  Manister,  and  what    Manister  had 
once  called  him  behind  his  back,  and  what  he 
would  have  done  to  Manister's  eye  had  half  as 
much  been   said  to  his    face.       His  personal 
decision   about  the  garden   party  was  merely 
contemptuous.   He  was  not  going.    Nor  did  he 
go  when  the  time  came.      Meanwhile,  however, 
something  happened   to  modify  for  the   mo- 
ment his  opinion  of  the  young  viscount  whom 
it  was  Herbert's  meager  satisfaction  to  abuse 
roundly  whenever  his  noble  name  was  spoken. 
Having  been   provided  with   two  rooms   at 
the  rectory,  in  one  of  which  he  was  expected 
to    read    diligently    every    morning,    Herbert 
entered  that  room  only  when  his  pipe  needed 
filling.      He  kept  his   tobacco  there,  and  also, 
to  be  sure,    his   books  ;  but    these    he    never 
opened.      He  read  nothing,  save  chance  items 
in  an   occasional    sporting  paper;  he   simply 
smoked  and  pottered,  leaving  the  smell  of  his 
pipe  in  the  least  desirable   places.     When   he 
took  photographs   with   Tiny,  that  was    pot- 
terinof  too,   for  neither  of  them   knew    much 
about  it,  and  Herbert  was  too  indolent  to  take 
either  pains  or  care  in  a  pursuit  which  essen- 
tially demands  both.      He  had  rather  a  good 


95  rmV  LUTTRELL. 

eye  for  a  subject  ;  he  could  arrange  a  picture 
with  some  judgment.  That  interested  him, 
but  the  subsequent  processes  did  not,  and 
these  invariably  spoilt  the  plate.  All  his  ac- 
tions, however,  suggested  an  underlying  the- 
ory that  what  is  worth  doing  is  not  necessarily 
worth  doing  well.  This  applied  even  to  his 
games,  about  which  Herbert  was  really  keen  ; 
he  played  lawn  tennis  carelessly,  though  with 
a  verve  and  energy  somewhat  surprising  in  the 
loafing,  smoking  idler  of  the  morning.  He 
had  been  fond  of  cricket,  too,  in  Australia  ; 
it  was  a  disappointment  to  him  that  no  cricket 
was  to  be  had  at  Essingham.  He  looked 
forward  to  Cambridge  for  the  athletic  advan- 
tages. He  had  no  intention  of  reading  there ; 
so  what,  he  wanted  to  know,  was  the  oood  of 
his  reading  here?  Certainly  Herbert  had 
entered  at  an  accommodating  college,  which 
would  receive  young  men  quite  free  from  pre- 
vious knowledge  ;  but  he  might  have  been 
reading  for  his  little-go  all  this  time ;  and  he 
never  read  a  word. 

But  one  morning  he  loitered  afield,  and 
came  back  enthusiastic  about  a  place  for  a 
photograph  ;  the  next.  Tiny  and  the  imple- 
ments were  dragged  to  the  spot  ;  and  really  it 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  99 

was  not  bad.     It  was  a  scene   on  the  little 
river  just  below  Mundham  bridge.     The  thick 
white  rails  of  the  bridge  standing  out  against 
a  clump  of  trees  in  the  park  beyond,  the  single 
arch  with  the  dark  water  underneath  and  some 
sunlit   ripples   twinkling  at   the  further  side, 
seemed  to  call  aloud  for  a  camera  ;  and   Her- 
bert might  have  used  his  to  some  purpose,  for 
a  change,  had  he  not  forgotten  to  fill  his  slides 
with  plates  before  leaving  home.     This  discov- 
ery was  not  made  until  the  bridge  was  in  focus, 
and  it  put  young  Luttrell  in  the  plight  of  a 
rifleman  who   has  sighted  the  bull's-eye  with 
an  empty  barrel.      It  was  a  question  of  return- 
ing  to    the   rectory  to   load  the  slides   or  of 
giving    up   the   photograph   altogether.       On 
another   occasion,  having  forgotten  the  lens, 
Herbert  had  packed  up  the  camera  and  gone 
back  in  disgust.      But  that  happened   nearer 
home.     To-day  he   had  carried  the  camera  a 
good  mile.     Two  journeys  with  something  to 
show  for  them  were  preferable  to  one  with   a 
tired  arm  for  the  only  result.     Within  a  min- 
ute after  the  slides  were  found  empty  Chris- 
tina  was    alone    in    the    meadow    below    the 
bridge  ;   Herbert  had  found  it   impossible   to 
give  up  the  photograph  altogether. 


lOO  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

The  girl  had  not  lost  patience,  for  she  was 
herself  partly  to  blame.  There  were,  however, 
still  better  reasons  for  her  resienation.  She 
happened  to  have  the  second  volume  of  "  The 
Newcomes  "  in  her  jacket  pocket,  and  the  little 
river  seemed  to  ripple  her  an  invitation  from 
the  bridge  to  make  herself  comfortable  with 
her  book  in  its  shade.  There  was  no  great 
need  for  shade,  but  the  idea  seemed  sensible. 
With  her  hand  on  the  book  in  her  pocket,  and 
her  eyes  hovering  about  the  bridge  for  the 
coolest  corner,  she  felt  perhaps  a  little  ashamed 
as  she  thought  of  Herbert  making  a  cool  da}^ 
hot  by  running  back  alone  for  what  they  had 
both  forgotten.  It  was  hardly  this  feeling, 
however,  that  kept  her  standing  where  she 
was. 

She  had  known  no  finer  day  in  England. 
The  light  was  strong  and  limpid,  the  shadows 
abrupt  and  deep.  The  sky  was  not  cloudless, 
but  the  clouds  were  thin  and  clean.  There 
was  a  refreshing  amount  of  wind ;  the  tree 
tops  beyond  the  bridge  swayed  a  little  against 
the  sky ;  the  focusing  cloth  flapped  between 
the  tripod  legs,  and  for  some  minutes  the  girl 
stood  absently  imbibing  all  this,  without  a 
thought  in  her  head. 


ESSINGHAM  RECTORY.  lOl 

Presently  she  found  herself  wondering 
whether  there  was  enough  movement  in  the 
trees  to  mar  a  photograph  ;  later  she  tucked 
her  head  under  the  cloth  to  see.  As  she  ex- 
amined the  inverted  picture  on  the  ground 
glass,  she  held  the  cloth  loosely  over  her  head 
and  round  her  neck.  But  suddenly  she  twitched 
it  tighter.  For  first  the  sound  of  wheels 
had  come  to  her  ears.  Then  a  dogcart  had 
been  pulled  up  on  the  bridge.  And  now  on 
the  focusing  screen  a  figure  was  advancing 
upside  down,  like  a  fly  on  the  ceiling,  and 
doubling  its  size  with  each  stride,  until  there 
occurred  a  momentary  eclipse  of  the  inverted 
landscape  by  Lord  Manister,  who  had  stalked 
in  broad  daylight  to  our  Tiny's  side. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    MATTER    OF    ANCIENT    HISTORY. 

The  focusinof  cloth  clungf  to  her  head  like 
a  cowl  as  she  raised  it  and  bowed.  There 
must  have  been  nervousness  on  both  sides,  for 
the  moment,  but  it  did  not  prevent  Lord  Man- 
ister  from  taking  off  his  hat  with  a  sweep  and 
swiftness  that  amounted  almost  to  a  flourish, 
nor  Christina  from  noticing  this  and  his  clothes. 
He  was  so  admirably  attired  in  summer  gray 
that  she  took  pleasure  in  reflecting  that  she 
was  herself  unusually  shabby,  her  idea  being 
that  contact  with  the  incorrect  was  rather  good 
for  him.  Correctness  of  anv  kind,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  was  ridiculously  wrong  in  her  eyes. 
Otherwise  she  might  have  been  different  her- 
self. 

"I  knew  it  was  you!"  Lord  Manister 
declared,  having  shaken  her  hand. 

"How  could  you  know  ?"  said  Christina, 
smiling.      "  You  must  be  very  clever." 

"  I   wish    I    was.      No  ;   I    met  your  brother 


A  MATTER  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  103 

running  like  anything  with  some  wooden 
things  under  his  arm.  He  wouldn't  see  me, 
but  I  saw  him.  I  was  going  to  pull  up,  but 
he  wouldn't  see  me." 

Miss  Luttrell  explained  that  her  brother 
had  gone  back  for  plates,  which  they  had  both 
very  stupidly  forgotten  ;  she  added  that  she 
was  sure  he  could  not  have  recognized  Lord 
Manister. 

"  Plates  ! "  said  this  nobleman.  "  Ah, 
they're    important,   I    know." 

"  Well,  they're  your  cartridges  ;  you  can't 
shoot  anything  without  them." 

Lord  Manister  gave  a  louder  laugh  than  the 
remark  merited  ;  then  he  studied  his  boots 
amonpf  the  daisies.  Christina  smiled  as  she 
watched  him,  until  he  looked  up  briskly,  and 
nearly  caught  her. 

"  I  say,  Miss  Luttrell,  I  should  like  im- 
mensely to  be  on  in  this  scene,  if  you  would 
let  me  !  I  mean  to  say  I  should  like  to  see 
the  thing  taken.  Perhaps  you  could  do  with 
the  trap  and  my  mare  on  the  bridge  ;  she's 
something  special,  I  assure  you.  And  I  have 
been  thinking — if  you  think  so  too — that  my 
man  might  go  back  for  your  brother  and 
give   him   a  lift.      It   must  be  monstrous  hot 


I04  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

walking.  It's  a  monstrous  hot  day,  you 
know." 

This  was  not  only  an  exaggeration,  but  a 
puff  of  smoke  revealing  hidden  fires  within  the 
young  man's  head.  Christina  fanned  the  fire 
until  it  tinged  his  cheek  by  willfully  hesitating 
before  giving  him  a  gracious  answer.  For 
when  she  spoke  it  was  to  say,  with  a  smile  at 
his  anxiety,  "  Really,  you  are  very  considerate, 
Lord  Manister,  and  I  am  sure  Herbert  will  bis 
grateful."  They  walked  to  the  bridge,  and 
stood  upon  it  the  next  minute,  watching  the 
dogcart  swing  out  of  sight  where  the  road 
bent. 

"Your  brother  is  very  likely  halfway  back 
by  this  time,"  remarked  Lord  Manister,  who 
would  have  been  very  sorry  to  believe  what 
he  was  saying.  "  I  dare  say  my  man  will  pick 
him  up  directly;  if  so,  they'll  be  back  in  a 
minute." 

"I  hope  they  will,"  said  Christina — "the 
light  is  so  excellent  just  now,"  she  was  in  a 
hurry  to  add. 

"  Ah,  the  light  in  Australia  was  better  for 
this  sort  of  thinof." 

"  As  a  rule,  yes  ;  but  it  would  surely  be  dif- 
ficult   to    beat    this    morning   anywhere ;     the 


A  MATTER   OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  105 

great   thing  is,  over  here,  that  you  are  so  free 
from  olare." 

O 

"  Then  you  Hke  England  ?" 

"  Well,  I  must  say  I  like  this  corner 
of  England  ;  I  haven't  seen  much  else,  you 
know." 

"Good!  I  am  glad  you  like  this  corner ; 
you  know  it's  ours,"  said  the  young  fellow 
simply.  Then  he  paused.  "  How  strange  to 
meet  you  here,  though  !  "  he  added,  as  if  he 
could  not  help  it,  nor  the  slight  stress  that 
laid  itself  upon  the  personal  pronoun. 

"  It  should  rather  strike  me  as  strange  to 
meet  you,"  Miss  Luttrell  replied  pointedly ; 
"  for  I  am  sure  I  told  you  that  my  sister  and 
her  husband  had  taken  Essingham  Rectory 
for  August.  You  may  have  forgotten  the 
occasion.     It  was  in  London." 

"  Dear  me,  no,  I'm  not  likely  to  forget  it. 
To  be  sure  you  told  me — at   Lady  Almeric's." 

"  Then  perhaps  you  remember  saying  that 
you  knew  ^Essingham  ?" 

It  was  not,  perhaps,  because  this  was  very 
dryly  said  that  Lord  Manister  smiled.  Nor 
was  the  smile  one  of  his  best,  which  were 
charming  ;  it  was  visibly  the  expression  of  his 
nervousness,  not  his  mirth. 


io6  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  do  remember 
that,"  he  confessed  with  an  awkwardness  and 
humility  which  made  Christina  tingle  in  a  sud- 
den appreciation  of  his  position  in  the  world. 
"  It  was  very  fooKsh  of  me,  Miss  Luttrell." 

"  I  wonder  what  made  you  ? "  remarked 
Christina  reflectively,  but  in  a  friendlier  tone. 

"Ah!  don't  wonder,"  he  said  impatiently. 
His  eyes  fell  upon  her  for  one  moment, 
then  wandered  down  the  road,  as  he  added 
strangely  :  "You  do  and  say  so  many  foolish 
things  without  a  decent  why  or  wherefore. 
They're  the  things  for  which  you  never  for- 
give yourself !  They're  the  things  for  which 
you  never  hope  to  be  forgiven  !  " 

The  girl  did  not  look  at  him,  but  her  glance 
chased  his  down  the  road  to  the  bend  where 
the  dogcart  had  vanished  and  would  reappear. 
She,  however,  was  the  next  to  speak,  for  some- 
thing had  occurred  to  her  that  she  very  much 
desired  to  explain. 

"  You  see,  I  didn't  know  you  lived  here.  I 
had  never  heard  of  Mundham  when  we  met 
in  town  ;  if  I  had  I  shouldn't  have  known  it 
was  yours.  I  never  dreamt  that  I  should 
meet  you  here.  You  understand,  Lord  Man- 
ister?" 


A    MATTER   OF  ANCIEh'T  HISTORY.  107 

"  My  dear  Miss  Luttrell,"  cried  Manister 
earnestly,  "  anybody  could  see  that !  " 

So  Christina  lost  nothing  by  her  little  exhi- 
bition of  anxiety  to  impress  this  point  upon 
him  ;  for  his  reply  was  a  triumphant  flourish 
of  the  opinion  she  desired  him  to  hold,  to 
show  her  that  he  had  it  already ;  and  his 
anxiety  in  the  matter  was  even  more  apparent 
than  her  own. 

"  Thank  you,  Lord  Manister,"  said  Christina, 
looking  him  full  in  the  face.  Then  her  glance 
dropped  to  his  hand  ;  and  his  fingers  were 
entangled  in  his  watch-chain  ;  and  in  the 
knowledge  that  the  greater  awkwardness  was 
on  his  side  she  raised  her  eyes  confidently, 
and  met  the  dogged  stare  of  a  young  Briton 
about  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  his  misdeeds. 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  why  I  didn't  men- 
tion our  having  taken  this  place  —  that  time 
in  town  ?  " 

"That  depends  on  whether  you  want  to 
tell  me." 

"  I  must  tell  you.  It  was  because  I  feared — I 
mean  to  say,  it  crossed  my  mind — that  perhaps 
you  mightn't  care  to  come  here  if  you  knew." 

He  paused  and  watched  her.  She  was 
looking  down,  with  her  chin  half  buried  in  the 


lo8  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

focusing  cloth,  which  had  slipped  from  her 
head  and  fallen  round  her  shoulders.  The 
coolness  of  her  face  against  the  black  velvet 
exasperated  him,  and  the  more  so  because  he 
felt  himself  flushing  as  he  added,  "  I  see  I  was 
a  fool  to  fear  that." 

"  It  was  certainly  unnecessary.  Lord  Man- 
ister,"  said  the  girl  calmly,  and  not  without  a 
note  of  amusement  in  her  voice, 

"  So  you  don't  mind  meeting  one  !  " 

"  Lord  Manister,  I  am  delighted.  Why 
should  I  mind?" 

"  You  know  I  behaved  like  a  brute." 

"You  did,  I'm  afraid."  He  winced.  "You 
went  away  without  saying  good-by  to  your 
friends." 

"  I  went  away  without  saying  good-by  to 
you." 

"  Among  others."  , 

"  No  ! "  he  cried  sharply.  "  You  and  I  were 
more  than  friends." 

Christina  drummed  the  ground  with  one 
foot.  Her  glance  passed  over  Lord  Manister's 
shoulder.  He  knew  that  it  waited  for  the 
dogcart  at  the  bend  of  the  road. 

"  We  were  more  than  friends,"  he  repeated 
desperately. 


A   MATTER   OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  109 

"  I  don't  think  we  ever  were." 

"  But  yoLi  thought  so  once!" 

The  girl's  Hp  curled,  but  her  eyes  still  waited 
in  the  road. 

"  I  wonder  what  you  yourself  thought  once, 
Lord  Manister  ?  "  she  said  quietly.  "  What- 
ever it  was,  it  didn't  last  long  ;  but  I  forgive 
that  freely.  Do  you  know  why  ?  Why, 
because  it  Vv^as  exactly  the  same  with  me." 

"  Do  you  forgive  me  for  getting  you  talked 
about?"  exclaimed  Lord  Manister. 

"Yes — because  it  is  the  only  thing  I  have 
to  forgive,"  returned  Christina  after  a 
moment's  hesitation.  "  The  rest  was  non- 
sense ;  and  I  wish  you  wouldn't  rake  it  up  in 
this  dreadfully  serious  way." 

We  know  what  Christina  might  mean  by 
nonsense.  Lord  Manister  was  not  the  first  of 
her  friends  whom  she  had  offended  by  her 
abuse  of  the  word.  "  It  was  not  nonsense!" 
be  cried.  "  It  was  somethino-  either  better  or 
worse.  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  honestly 
meant  it  to  be  something  better.  But  my 
people  sent  for  me.     What  could  I  do  ?" 

His  voice  and  eyes  were  pitiable;  but 
Cliristina  showed  him  no  pity. 

"  What,  indeed  ! "  she  said  ironically.   "  I  my- 


no  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

self  never  blamed  you  forgoing.  I  was  quite 
sure  that  you  were  the  passive  party,  though 
others  said  differently.  All  I  have  to  forgive 
is  what  you  made  other  people  say  ;  but  the 
whole  affair  is  a  matter  of  ancient  history — 
and  do  you  think  we  need  talk  about  it  any 
more,  Lord  Manister?  ' 

"  It  is  not  all  I  have  to  forgive  myself,"  he 
answered  bitterly,  disregarding  her  ques- 
tion. "If  only  you  would  hate  me,  I  could 
hate  myself  less ;  but  I  deserve  your  con- 
tempt. Yet,  if  you  knew  what  has  been  in 
my  heart  all  this  time,  you  w^ould  pity  one. 
You  have  haunted  me  !  I  have  been  good  for 
nothing  ever  since  I  came  back  to  England. 
My  people  will  tell  you  so,  when  you  get  to 
know  them.  My  mother  would  tell  you  in 
a  minute.  She  has  never  heard  your  name 
.  .  .  but  she  knows  there  was  someone  .  .  . 
she  knows  there  is  someone  still !" 

Christina  had  colored  at  last ;  but,  as  she 
colored,  the  trot  of  a  horse  came  gratefully 
to  her  attentive  ears. 

"  You  must  think  no  more  about  it,"  she 
whispered  ;  and  her  flush  deepened. 

"You  wipe  it  all  out?"  he  cried  eagerly. 

"  Of  course  I  do." 


A    MATTER   OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  m 

Her  eyes  met  the  dogcart  at  the  bend. 
Herbert  was  in  it. 

"  And  we  start  afresh  ?  " 

He  thought  he  was  to  get  no  answer.  She 
was  gazing  anxiously  at  Herbert  as  the  trap 
approached  ;  as  it  drew  up  on  the  bridge  she 
murmured,  "  I  think  we  had  better  let  well 
alone,"  without  looking  at  Lord  Manister. 
"Herbert,  you  remember  Lord  Manister?" 
she  cried  aloud  in  the  same  breath. 

Herbert's  look  was  not  reassuring.  He  was, 
in  fact,  disgusted  with  all  present  but  the 
groom,  and  most  of  all  with  himself,  for  being 
where  he  was.  Nor  was  he  the  young  man  to 
trouble  to  hide  his  feelings,  and  he  show^ed 
them  now  in  so  black  a  look  that  Christina, 
who  knew  him,  was  filled  with  apprehension. 
Thanks  to  Lord  Manister's  tact,  that  look  did 
not  last.  Manister,  who  had  his  own  impres- 
sion of  young  Luttrell's  character,  and  had 
not  to  be  shrewd  to  guess  the  other's  attitude 
toward  himself,  brought  his  most  graceful 
manner  to  bear  on  the  situation.  With  Tiny 
Luttrell,  during  the  bad  quarter  of  an  hour 
which  he  had  deserved  and  now  endured,  his 
best  manner  had  not  been  at  his  command  ; 
but  it  returned  to  him  with  the  return   of  the 


112  riNY  LUTTRELL. 

dogcart,  and  in  time  to  do  him  a  service.  He 
had  hardly  shaken  hands  with  Herbert  when 
he  asked  him  as  an  Austrahan,  and  therefore 
a  judge,  his  opinion  of  the  mare. 

The  touch  would  have  been  too  heavy  for 
an  olderman  ;  but  Herbert  was  barely  twenty, 
and  it  flattered  him  to  the  marrow.  Christina 
was  relieved  to  hear  his  knowing  but  lauda- 
tory comments  on  the  mare's  points.  She 
knew  that,  despite  her  brother's  aggressive 
independence,  he  was  susceptible  enough  to 
marked  civility.  This,  indeed,  he  never 
expected,  and  he  was  ever  ready  to  return, 
with  interest,  some  fancied  slight  ;  but  Chris- 
tina had  never  known  him  rude  to  anyone 
going  out  of  his  way  to  be  polite  to  him,  as 
Lord  Manister  was  doing  this  morning.  She 
divined  that  politeness  from  a  nobleman  was 
not  less  gratifying  to  Herbert  because  he 
happened  to  have  maligned  the  nobleman  with 
much  industry.  Herbert's  modest  desire  was 
to  be  treated  as  an  equal  by  all  men,  and  he 
was  now  being  treated  as  an  equal  by  a  lord. 
This  was  all  he  required  to  make  him  reason- 
ably civil,  even  to  Lord  Manister.  When 
Manister  asked  him,  almost  deferentially, 
whether  the  mare  could  be  taken  in  the  pho- 


A   MATTER   OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  II3 

tograph,  he  offered  his  lordship  a  place  in  it 
too,  the  offer  being  decHned,  but  not  without 
many  thanks. 

"  I'm  going  to  help  take  it,"  Manister 
laughed.  "  Mind  you  don't  move,  Luttrell. 
I'm  going  to  help  your  sister.  Hadn't  you  better 
come  too,  and  leave  my  man  alone  in  his  glory?  " 

Herbert  replied  that  he  would  take  off  the 
cap  or  do  anything  they  liked.  So  the  three 
went  down  into  the  meadow,  and  some  infa- 
mous negatives  resulted  later.  At  the  time 
care  seemed  to  be  taken  by  the  photographers, 
while  Lord  Manister  stood  at  a  little  distance, 
laughing  a  good  deal.  He  was  pressed  to 
stand  in  the  foreground,  but  not  by  Christina, 
and  he  steadily  refused.  The  conciliation  of 
his  enemy  seemed  assured  without  that,  though 
he  did  think  of  something  else  to  make  it 
doubly  sure. 

"  By  the  way,  Luttrell,"  he  said  as  the 
camera  was  being  packed  away,  "  you're  a 
cricketer  to  a  certainty — you're  an  Australian." 

"  I'm  very  fond  of  it,"  the  Australian  replied, 
"  but  I  haven't  played  over  here  ;  I've  never 
had  the  slant." 

"  Well,  we  play  a  bit ;  come  over  and  prac- 
tice with  us." 


114  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Herbert  thanked  him,  declaring  that  he 
should  like  nothing  better. 

"  Lord  Manister  is  a  great  cricketer,"  Chris- 
tina observed. 

"  Come  over  and  practice,"  repeated  his 
lordship  cordially.  "The  ground  isn't  at  all- 
bad,  considering  it  was  only  made  last  winter, 
and  there's  a  professor  to  bowl  to  you.  We 
have  some  matches  coming  on  presently.  Per- 
haps we  might  find  a  place  for  you." 

This  was  the  one  thing  Lord  Manister  said 
which  came  within  measurable  distance  of 
offending  the  touchy  Herbert.  A  minute 
later  they  had  parted  company. 

"  They  might  find  a  place  for  me,"  Herbert 
repeated  as  he  and  Tiny  turned  toward  the 
village,  while  Lord  Manister  drove  off  in  the 
opposite  direction,  with  another  slightly  orna- 
mental sweep  of  his  hat.  "  Might  they,  indeed  ! 
I  wouldn't  take  it.  My  troubles  about  their 
matches !     But  I  could  enjoy  a  practice." 

"  He  said  he  would  send  over  for  you  next 
time  they  do  practice." 

Those  had  been  Lord  Manister's  last  words. 

"  He  did.  He  is  improved.  He's  a  sports- 
man, after  all.  It  was  decent  of  him  to  send 
back  the  trap  for  me.     But   I   didn't  want  to 


A    MATTER   OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  115 

get  in — I  was  jolly  scotty  with  myself  for  get- 
ting in.      I  say,  Tiny  ! " 

"Well?" 

He  had  her  by  the  arm. 

"  I  don't  ask  any  questions.  I  don't  want 
to  know  a  single  thing.  I  hope  he  went  down 
on  his  knees  for  his  sins  ;  I  hope  you  gave 
him  fits  !  But  look  here,  Tiny  :  I  won't  say 
a  word  about  this  inside  if  you'd  rather  I 
didn't." 

"  I'd  rather  you  did,"  Tiny  said  at  once. 
"  There's  nothing  to  hide.  But — you  can  be 
a  dear,  good  boy  when  you  like,  Herbs  !" 

"  Can  I  ?  Then  you  can  be  offended  if  you 
like — but  he's  on  the  job  now  if  he  never  was 
in  his  life  before  !  " 

"  I  won't  say  I  hope  he  isn't,"  Tiny  whis- 
pered. 

So  she  was  not  offended. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    HALL. 

Such  was  Christina's  first  meeting  with 
Lord  Manister  in  his  own  county.  It 
occurred  while  his  mother's  invitation  was 
exhilarating  so  many  homes,  and  on  the  day 
when  the  Mundham  mail  bao-nvould  not  hold 
the  first  draught  of  prompt  replies.  Until 
the  garden  party  itself,  however,  no  one  at  the 
rectory  saw  any  more  of  Lord  Manister,  who 
had  gone  for  a  few  days  to  the  Marquis  of 
Wymondham's  place  in  Scotland,  where  he 
shot  dreadfully  on  the  Twelfth  and  was  other- 
wise in  queer  form,  considering  that  Miss 
Garth  was  also  one  of  the  guests.  But  under 
all  the  circumstances  it  is  not  difficult  to 
imagine  Manister  worried  and  unhappy  dur- 
ing this  interval  ;  which,  on  the  other  hand, 
remained  in  the  minds  of  the  people  at  the 
rectory,  Christina  included,  as  the  pleasantest 
part  of  their  month  there. 

Not  that  they  suspected  this  at  the  time. 
Mrs.  Erskine   especially   found   these   days  a 

116 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE  HALL.  u? 

little  slow.  Having  knowledge  of  Lord  Man- 
ister's  whereabouts,  she  was  impatient  for  his 
return,  and  the  more  so  because  Christina 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  his  existence. 
Christina  was  indeed  puzzling,  and  on  one 
embarrassing  occasion,  which  with  some  girls 
would  have  led  to  a  scene,  she  puzzled  Ruth 
more  than  ever.  Ruth  tried  to  follow  her 
presumptive  example,  and  to  put  aside  the 
thought  of  Lord  Manister  for  the  time  being. 
Her  consolation  meanwhile  was  the  lively 
camaradej^ie  between  Christina  and  Erskine, 
wherein  Erskine's  wife  took  a  delight  for 
which  we  may  forgive  her  much. 

"How  well  you  two  get  on!"  she  would 
say  gladly  to  each  of  them. 

"  He's  a  man  and  a  brother,"  Tiny  would 
reply. 

To  which  Ruth  was  sure  to  say  tenderly  : 
"  It's  sweet  of  you,  dear,  to  look  upon  him  as 
a  brother. 

"  Ah,  but  don't  you  forget  that  he's  a  man, 
and  not  my  brother  really,  but  just  the  very 
best  of  pals  !  "  Tiny  said  once.  "  That's  the 
beauty  of  him.  He's  the  only  man  who  ever 
talked  sense  to  me  right  through  from  the 
beginning,  so  he's  something  new.      He's  the 


Il8  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

only  man  I  ever  liked  without  having  the 
least  desire  to  flirt  with  him,  if  you  particu- 
larly want  to  know  !  And  I  don't  believe  his 
being  my  brother-in-law  has  anything  to  do 
with  that,"  added  the  girl  reflectively ;  "  it 
would  have  been  the  same  in  any  case. 
What's  better  still,  he's  the  only  man  who 
ever  understood  me,  my  dear." 

"  He's  very  clever,  you  see,"  observed  Ruth 
slyly,  but  also  in  all  seriousness. 

"  That's  the  worst  of  him  ;  he  makes  you 
feel  your  ignorance." 

"  I  assure  you,  Tiny,  he  thinks  you  very 
clever." 

"  So  you're  crackin' ! "  laughed  Tiny  ;  and 
as  the  old  bush  slang  filled  her  mouth  unbid- 
den, the  smell  of  a  hot  wind  at  Wallandoon 
came  into  her  nostrils  ;  and  there  seemed  no 
more  to  be  said. 

But  that  last  assurance  of  Ruth's  was  still 
ringing  in  her  ears  when  her  thoughts  got 
back  from  the  bush.  She  did  not  believe  a 
word  of  it.  Yet  it  was  more  or  less  true. 
Nor  was  Erskine  far  wrong  in  any  opinion  he 
had  expressed  to  his  wife  concerning  Chris- 
tina, of  whom,  perhaps,  he  had  said  even  less 
than  he  thought. 


THE   SHADOW  OF   THE  HALL.  119 

She  was  not,  indeed,  to  be  called  an  intel- 
lectual girl,  in  these  days  least  of  all  That 
was  her  misfortune,  or  otherwise,  as  you  hap- 
pen to  think.  Intellectual  possibilities,  how- 
ever, she  possessed :  raw  brain  with  which 
much  might  have  been  done.  Not  much  can 
be  done  by  a  governess  on  a  station  in  the 
back-blocks.  Merely  in  curino-  the  Qrirls  of 
the  twang  of  Australia,  more  successfully  than 
of  its  slang,  and  in  teaching  Tiny  to  sing 
rather  nicely,  the  governess  at  Wallandoon 
had  done  wonders.  But  gifts  that  were  of 
more  use  to  Christina  were  natural,  such  as 
the  quick  perception,  the  long  memory,  and 
the  ready  tongue  with  which  she  defended 
the  doors  of  her  mind,  so  that  few  might 
guess  the  poverty  of  the  store  within.  Nor 
had  the  pfoverness  been  able  to  add  much  to 
that  store.  The  likincr  for  books  had  not 
come  to  Christina  at  Wallandoon  ;  but  in 
Melbourne  she  had  taken  to  reading,  and 
had  reveled  in  a  deal  of  trash  ;  and  now  in 
England  she  read  whatever  Erskine  put  in 
her  hands,  and  honestly  enjoyed  most  of 
it,  with  the  additional  rehsh  of  being  proud 
of  her  enjoyment.  Erskine  thought  her  dis- 
criminating, too  ;  but  converts  to  good  books 


120  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

are  apt  to  flatter  the  saviors  of  their  taste, 
and  perhaps  her  brother-in-law  was  a  poor 
judge  of  the  girl's  judgment.  He  liked  her 
for  finding  Colonel  Newcomes  life  more 
touching  than  his  death,  and  for  placing  the 
Colonel  second  to  Di'.  Primrose  in  the  order 
of  her  crods  after  readinor  "  The  Vicar  of 
Wakefield."  He  was  delighted  with  her  con- 
fession that  she  should  "love  to  be  loved  by 
Clive  Newcome,"  while  her  defense  of  Miss 
Ethel,  which  was  vigorous  enough  to  betray  a 
fellow-feeling,  was  interesting  at  the  time,  and 
more  so  later,  when  there  was  occasion  to 
remember  it.  Similar  interest  attached  to 
another  confession,  that  she  had  long  envied 
CEno7ie  and  Elaine  "  because  they  were  really 
In  love."  She  seemed  to  have  mixed  some 
good  poetry  with  the  bad  novels  that  had 
contented  her  in  Melbourne.  Two  more 
books  which  she  learned  to  love  now  were 
"Sesame  and  Lilies"  and   "  Virorinibus  Puer- 

<z> 

isque."  It  was  Erskine  Holland's  privilege 
to  put  each  into  her  hands  for  the  first  time, 
and  perhaps  she  never  pleased  him  quite  so 
much  as  when  she  said  :  "  It  makes  me  think 
less  of  myself ;  it  has  made  me  horribly 
unhappy;  but  if  they  were  going  to  hang  me 


THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   HALL.  121 

in  the  morning  I   would   sit  up   all  night  tO' 
read  it  again!"      That  was  her   grace   after 
"  Sesame  and  Lilies." 

"Why  don't  you  make  Ruth  read  too?" 
she  asked  him  once,  quite  idly,  when  they  had 
been  talkinof  about  books. 

"  She  has  a  good  deal  to  think  about," 
Erskine  replied  after  a  little  hesitation.  "  She's 
too  busy  to  read." 

**  Or  too  happy,"  suggested  Tiny. 

Mr.  Holland  m,ade  a  longer  pause,  looking 
gratefully  at  the  girl,  as  though  she  had  given 
him  a  new  idea,  which  he  would  gladly  enter- 
tain if  he  could.  "  I  wonder  whether  that's 
possible?"  he  said  at  last. 

"  I'm  sure  it  is.  Ruth  is  so  happy  that 
books  can  do  nothing  for  her ;  the  happy  ones 
show  her  no  happiness  so  great  as  her  own, 
and  she  thinks  the  sad  ones  stupid.  The 
other  day,  when  I  insisted  on  reading  her  my 
favorite  thing  in  '  Virginibus 

"What  is  your  favorite  thing?"  interrupted 
Erskine. 

"  '  El  Dorado  ' — it's  the  most  beautiful  thing 
you  have  put  me  on  to  yet,  of  its  size.  I  could 
hardly  see  my  way  through  the  last  page — I 
can't  tell  you   why — only  because   it  was   so 


122  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

beautiful,  I  think,  and  so  awfully  true  !  But 
Ruth  saw  nothing  to  cry  over  ;  I'm  not  sure 
that  she  saw  much  to  admire  ;  and  that's  all 
because  you  have  gone  and  made  her  so  happy." 

For  some  minutes  Erskine  looked  grim. 
Then  he  smiled. 

"  But  aren't  you  happy  too,  Tiny?" 

"  I'm  as  happ)^  as  I  deserve  to  be.  That's 
good  enough,  isn't  it  ?" 

"Quite.  You  must  be  as  happy  as  you're 
pleased  to  think  Ruth." 

"  Well,  then,  I'm  not.  I  should  like  to  be 
some  good  in  the  world,  and  I'm  no  good  at 
all  !  " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  it  take  you  like  that," 
said  Erskine  gravely.  "  I  wouldn't  have 
thought  this  of  you.  Tiny  !" 

"Ah,  there  are  many  things  you  wouldn't 
think  of  me,"  remarked  Tiny.  She  spoke  a 
little  sadly,  and  she  said  no  more.  And  this 
time  her  sudden  silence  came  from  no  vision 
of  the  bush,  but  from  what  she  loved  much 
less — a  glimpse  of  herself  in  the  mirror  of  her 
own  heart. 

There  was  one  thing,  certainly,  that  none  of 
them  would  have  thought  of  her  ;  for  she  never 
told  them  of  her  little  quiet  meddlings  in  the 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   HALL.  123 

village.  But  I  could  tell  you.  Pleasant  it 
would  be  to  write  of  what  she  did  for  Mrs. 
Clapperton  (who  certainly  seemed  to  have 
been  unfairly  treated)  and  of  the  memories 
that  lived  after  her  in  more  cottages  than  one. 
But  you  are  to  see  her  as  they  did  who  saw 
most  of  her,  and  to  remember  that  nothing  is 
more  delightful  than  beinor  kind  to  the  orrate- 
ful  poor,  especially  when  one  is  privately 
depressed.  Little  was  ever  known  of  the  lib- 
erties taken  by  Christina's  generosity,  and 
nothings  sliall  be  recorded  here.  She  must 
stand  or  fall  without  that,  as  in  the  eyes  of  her 
friends.  Suffice  it  that  she  did  amuse  herself 
in  this  way  on  the  sly,  and  found  it  good  for 
restoring  her  vanity,  which  was  suffering 
secretly  all  this  time.  She  would  have  been 
the  last  to  take  credit  for  any  good  she  may 
have  done  in  Essingham.  She  knew  that  it 
wiped  out  nothing,  and  also  that  it  made  her 
happier  than  she  would  have  been  otherwise. 
For  thouoh  a  worse  time  came  later,  even 
now  she  was  not  comfortable  in  her  heart. 
And  she  had  by  no  means  forgotten  the  exist- 
ence of  Lord  Manister,  as  someone  feared. 

Ruth,  however,  put  her    own   conversation 
under  studious  restraint   during   these   days, 


124  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

many  of  which  passed  without  any  mention  of 
Lord  Manister's  name  at  the  rectory.  The 
distracting  proximity  of  his  stately  home  was 
apparently  forgotten  in  this  peaceful  spot. 
But  the  wife  of  one  clerical  neighbor,  a  Mrs. 
Willoughby,  who  accompanied  her  husband 
when  he  came  to  play  lawn  tennis  with  Mr. 
Holland,  and  indeed  wherever  the  poor  man 
went,  cherished  a  grudge  against  the  young 
nobleman's  family,  of  which  she  made  no 
secret.  It  was  only  natural  that  this  lady 
should  air  her  grievance  on  the  lawn  at 
Essingham,  whence  there  was  a  distant  pros- 
pect of  lodge  and  gates  to  goad  her  tongue. 
Yet,  when  she  did  so,  it  was  as  though  the  sun 
had  come  out  suddenly  and  thrown  the  shadow 
of  the  hall  across  the  rectory  garden. 

"  As  for  tliis  garden  party,"  cried  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby, as  it  seemed  for  the  benefit  of  the 
gentlemen,  who  had  put  on  their  coats,  and 
were  handing  teacups  under  the  trees,  "I 
consider  it  an  insult  to  the  county.  It  comes 
too  late  in  the  day  to  be  regarded  as  anything 
else.  Why  didn't  they  do  something  when  first 
they  came  here  ?  They  have  had  the  place  a 
year.  Why  didn't  they  give  a  ball  in  the 
winter,  or  a  set  of  dinner  parties  if  they  pre- 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE  HALL.  125 

ferredthat?  Shall  I  tell  you  why,  Mr.  Hol- 
land ?  It  was  because  the  general  election 
was  further  off  then,  and  it  hadn't  occurred  to 
them  to  put  up  Lord  Manister  for  the  division." 

"  They  haven't  been  here  a  year,  my  dear, 
by  any  means,"  observed  Mrs.  Willoughby's 
husband;  "and  as  for  dinner  parties,  we,  at 
any  rate,  have  dined  with  them." 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  boast  about  it,"  answered 
Mrs.  Willoughby,  who  had  a  sharp  manner  in 
conversation,  and  a  specially  staccato  note  for 
her  husband.  "  We  dined  with  them,  it  is  true  ; 
I  suppose  they  thought  they  must  do  the  civil 
to  a  neighboring  rector  or  two.  But  as  their 
footman  had  the  insolence  to  tell  our  coach- 
man, Mrs.  Holland,  they  considered  things 
had  reached  a  pretty  pass  when  it  came  to 
dining  the  country  clergy  ! '  " 

"  Their  footman  considered,"  murmured  Mr. 
Willoughby. 

"  He  was  repeating  what  he  had  heard  at 
table,"  the  lady  affirmed,  as  though  she  had 
heard  it  herself.  "  They  had  made  a  joke  of 
it — before  their  servants.  So  they  don't  catch 
me  at  their  garden  party,  which  is  to  satisfy 
our  social  cravings  and  secure  our  votes.  I 
don't  visit  with  snobs,   Mrs.   Holland,  for  all 


126  riNY  LUTTRELL. 

their  coronets  and  Norman  blood — of  which, 
let  me  tell  you,  they  haven't  one  drop  between 
them.  Who  was  the  present  earl's  great- 
grandfather, I  should  like  to  know  ?  He  never 
had  one ;  they  are  not  only  snobs  but  upstarts, 
the  Dromards." 

*'At  any  rate,"  Mr.  Holland  said  mildly, 
"  they  can't  gain  anything  by  being  civil  to  us. 
We  don't  represent  a  single  vote.  We  are 
here  for  one  calendar  month." 

"  Ah,  it  is  wise  to  be  disinterested  here  and 
there,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Willoughby,  whose  sharp- 
ness was  not  merely  vocal ;  "  it  supplies  an 
instance,  and  that's  worth  a  hundred  argu- 
ments. Now  I  shouldn't  wonder,  Mr.  Holland, 
if  they  didn't  go  out  of  their  way  to  be  quite 
nice  to  you.  I  shouldn't  wonder  a  bit.  It 
would  advertise  their  disinterestedness.  But 
wait  till  you  meet  them  in  Piccadilly." 

"Mrs.  Willoughby  is  a  cynic,"  laughed  Er- 
skine,  turning  to  the  clergyman,  whose  wife 
swallowed  her  tea  complacently  with  this  com- 
pliment to  sweeten  it.  To  so  many  minds  a 
charge  of  cynicism  would  seem  to  imply  that 
intellectual  superiority  which  is  cheap  at  the 
price  of  a  moral  defect. 

Now  Erskine  had  a  lawn  tennis  player  stay- 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE  HALL.  127 

ing  with  him  for  the  inside  of  this  week;  and 
the  lawn  tennis  player  was  a  fallen  cricketer, 
who  had  played  against  the  Eton  eleven  when 
young  Manisterwas  in  it;  and  he  ventured  to 
suggest  that  the  division  might  find  a  worse 
candidate,  ''  He  was  a  nice  enough  boy  then," 
said  he,  "and  I  recollect  he  made  runs;  he's  a 
good  fellow  still,  from  all  accounts." 

"  From  all  mj/ accounts,"  retorted  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby,  refreshed  by  her  tea,  "  he's  a  very 
fast  one  ! " 

Erskine's  friend  had  never  heard  that,  though 
he  understood  that  Manister  had  fallen  off  in 
his  cricket ;  he  had  not  seen  the  young  fellow 
for  years,  nor  did  he  think  any  more  about 
him  at  the  moment,  being  drawn  by  Herbert 
into  cricket  talk,  which  stopped  his  ears  to  the 
general  conversation  just  as  this  became  really 
interesting. 

"That  reminds  me,"  Mrs.  Willoughby 
exclaimed,  turning  to  Ruth.  "  Was  Lord 
Manister  out  in  Australia  in  your  time?" 

Ruth  said  "  No,"  rather  nervously,  for  Mrs. 
Willoughby's  manner  alarmed  her.  "  I  was 
married  just  before  he  came  out,"  she  added  ; 
"  as  a  matter  of  fact,  our  steamers  crossed  in 
the  canal." 


1^8  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Well,  you  know  what  a  short  time  he 
stayed  there,  for  a  governor's  aid-de-camp?" 

"  Only  a  few  months,  I  have  heard.  Do  let 
me  give  you  another  cup  of  tea,  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby  ! " 

"  Now  I  wonder  if  you  know,"  pursued  this 
lady,  having  cursorily  declined  more  tea,  "how 
he  came  to  leave  so  suddenly  ? " 

Poor  Mrs.  Holland  shook  her  head,  which 
was  inwardly  besieged  with  impossible  tenders 
for  a  change  of  subject.  No  one  helped  her  : 
Tiny  had  perhaps  already  lost  her  presence  of 
mind  ;  Erskine  did  not  understand  ;  the  other 
two  were  not  listening-.  Ruth  could  think  of 
no  better  expedient  than  a  third  cup  for  Chris- 
tina ;  as  she  passed  it  her  own  hand  trembled, 
but  venturing  to  glance  at  her  sister's  face,  she 
was  amazed  to  find  it  not  only  free  from  all 
sign  of  self-consciousness  or  of  anxiety,  but 
filled  with  unaffected  interest.  For  this  was 
the  occasion  on  which  Christina's  coolness  quite 
baffled  Ruth,  who  for  her  part  was  preparing 
for  a  scene. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Willoughby. 

"  Do,"  said  Christina,  to  whom  the  well- 
informed  lady  at  once  turned. 

"  He  formed  an  attachment  out  there.  Miss 


THE   SHADOW  OF   THE  HALL.  129 

Luttrell !  He  could  only  get  out  of  it  by 
fleeing  the  country  ;  so  he  fled.  You  look  as 
though  you  knew  all  about  it,"  she  added 
(making  Ruth  shudder),  for  the  girl  had 
smiled  knowingly. 

"  About  which  ? "  asked  Tiny. 

"  What !  Were  there  more  affairs  than 
one  ?" 

"■  Some  people  said  so." 

Mrs.  Willoughby  glanced  around  her  with 
a  glittering  eye,  and  was  sorry  to  notice  that 
two  of  her  hearers  were  not  listening.  "  That 
is  just  what  I  expected,"  she  informed  the 
other  four.  "  If  you  tell  me  that  Melbourne 
became  too  hot  to  hold  him  I  shall  not  be  sur- 
prised. 

"  Melbourne  made  rather  a  fuss  about  him," 
replied  Christina  in  an  excusing  tone  that 
pierced  Ruth's  embarrassment  and  pricked  to 
life  her  darling  hopes.  "  He  was  not  greatly 
to  blame." 

"  But  he  broke  the  poor  girl's  heart.  I 
should  blame  him  for  that,  to  say  the  least  of 
it." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  said  Christina  gravely  ; 
"  I  thought  that  people  at  home  never  blamed 
each  other  for  anything  they  did  in  the  colo- 


I30  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

nies  ?  Over  here  you  are  particular,  I  know ; 
but  I  thought  it  was  correct  not  to  be  too  par- 
ticular when  out  there.  Your  writers  come  out : 
we  treat  them  like  lords,  and  then  they  do 
_nothing  but  abuse  us  ;  your  lords  come  out : 
we  treat  them  like  princes,  and,  you  see,  they 
break  our  hearts.  Of  course  they  do  !  We 
expect  it  of  them.  It's  all  we  look  for  in  the 
colonies." 

"  You  are  not  serious,  Miss  Luttrell,"  said 
Mrs.  WilloLighby  in  some  displeasure.  "  To 
my  mind  it  is  a  serious  thing.  It  seems  a  sad 
thing,  too,  to  me.  But  I  may  be  old-fashioned  ; 
the  present  generation  would  crack  jokes 
across  an  open  grave,  as  I  am  well  aware. 
Yet  there  isn't  much  joke  in  a  young  girl  hav- 
ing her  heart  broken  by  such  as  Lord  Manister, 
is  there  ?  And  that's  what  literally  happened, 
for  my  friend  Mrs.  Foster-Simpson  knows  all 
about  it.  She  knows  all  about  the  Dromards 
— to  her  cost ! " 

"  Ah,  we  know  the  Foster-Simpsons  ;  they 
called  on  us  last  year,"  remarked  Erskine,  who 
devoutly  trusted  that  they  would  not  call 
again.  His  amusement  at  Christina  hardly 
balanced  his  weariness  of  Mrs.  Willoughby, 
and  he  took  off  his  coat  as  he  spoke. 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE  HALL.  13 1 

"  Does  your  friend  know  the  poor  girl's 
name,  Mrs.  Willoughby  ?"  Tiny  asked  when 
the  men  had  gone  back  to  the  court ;  and  her 
tone  was  now  as  sympathetic  as  could  possibly 
be  desired. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  say  she  does  not ;  it's  the  one 
thing  she  has  been  unable  to  find  out,"  said 
Mrs.  WilloLighby  naively.  "  Perhaps  you 
could  tell  me,  Miss   Luttrell  ? " 

"  Perhaps  I  could,"  said  Christina,  smiling, 
as  she  rose  to  seek  a  ball  v/hich  had  been  hit 
into  the  churchyard,  "  Only,  you  see,  I  don't 
know  which  of  them  it  was.  It  wouldn't  be 
fair  to  give  you  a  list  of  names  to  guess  from, 
would  it  ?  " 

Fortunately  Mrs.  Willoughby  put  no  further 
questions  to  Ruth,  who  was  intensely  thankful. 
"  For,"  as  she  told  Christina  afterward,  "/  was 
on  pins  and  needles  the  whole  time.  I  never 
did  know  anyone  like  you  for  keeping  cool 
under  fire  !" 

"  It  depends  on  the  fire,"  Tiny  said.  "  Mrs. 
Willoughby  went  off  by  accident,  and  luckily 
she  was  not  pointing  at  anybody." 

"And  I'm  glad  she  did,  now  it's  over!" 
exclaimed  Ruth.  "  Don't  you  see  that  I  was 
quite   right  about  your  name  ?     So  now  you 


132  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

need  have  no  more  qualms  about  the  garden 
party." 

"  Perhaps  I've  had  no  qualms  for  some  time ; 
perhaps  I've  known  you  were  right." 

"  Since  when  ?  Since — since  you  saw  Lord 
Manister  ?" 

Tiny  nodded. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  talked  about  it  ?" 
Ruth  whispered  in  delicious  awe. 

**  I  mustn't  tell  you  what  he  talked  about. 
He  was  as  nice  as  he  could  be — though  I 
should  have  preferred  to  find  him  less  beauti- 
fully dressed  in  the  country  ;  but  I  always  felt 
that  about  him.  I  am  sure,  however,  of  one 
thinor ;  he  was  no  more  to  blame  than — I  was. 
I  have  always  felt  this  about  him,  too." 

"Tiny,  dear,  if  only  I  could  understand 
you  ! 

"  If  only  you  could  !  Then  you  might  help 
me  to  understand  myself." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"countess  dromard  at  home." 

• 

The  hall  gates  were  plain  enough  from  the 
rectory  lawn,  but  plainer  still  from  the  steps 
whence,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  garden  party, 
Mr.  Holland  watched  them  from  under  the 
brim  of  the  first  hard  hat  he  had  worn  for  a 
fortnight.  He  was  ready,  while  the  ladies 
were  traditionally  late,  but  he  did  not  lose 
patience ;  he  was  too  much  entertained  in 
watchino-  the  hall  oates  and  the  hedo^erow 
that  hid  the  road  leading  up  to  them.  Vehi- 
cles were  filing  along  this  road  in  a  procession 
which  for  the  moment  was  continuous.  Er- 
skine  could  see  them  over  the  hedge,  and  it  was 
difficult  to  do  so  without  sharing  some  opin- 
ions which  Mrs.  Willoughby  had  expressed 
regarding  the  comprehensive  character  of  the 
social  measure  taken  not  before  it  was  time 
by  the  noble  family  within  those  gates.  There 
were  county  clergymen  driving  themselves  in 

»33 


134  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

ill-balanced  dogcarts,  and  county  townspeople 
in  carriages  manifestly  hired,  and  county  big- 
wigs— as  big  as  the  Dromards  themselves — in 
splendid  equipages,  with  splendid  coachmen 
and  horseflesh  the  most  map:nificent.  Greater 
processional  versatility  might  scarcely  be  seen 
in  southwestern  suburbs  on  Derby  Day;  and 
the  low  phaeton  which  he  himself  was  about 
to  contribute  to  the  medley  made  Erskine 
laugh. 

"  We  should  follow  the  next  really  swagger 
turnout — we  should  run  behind  it,"  he  sug- 
gested to  the  girls  when  at  length  they 
appeared  ;  and  Ruth  took  him  seriously. 

"  No,  get  in  front  of  them,"  said  Herbert, 
who  was  lounging  on  the  steps,  in  dirty  flan- 
nels which  Erskine  envied  hini.  "  Get  in  front 
of  them  and  slow  down.  That'd  be  the  sport- 
ing thing  to  do  !  They  couldn't  pass  you  in 
the  drive.      It  would  do  'em  o-ood." 

However,  the  procession  was  not  without 
gaps,  and  to  Ruth's  satisfaction  they  found 
themselves  in  rather  a  wide  one.  As  they 
drove  through  those  august  gates  a  parson's 
dogcart  was  rounding  a  curve  some  distance 
ahead,  but  nothingwas  in  sight  behind.  Ruth 
sat   beside   her    husband,    who    drove.       She 


"COUNTESS  DROMARD  AT  HOME."  135 

looked  rather  demure,  but  very  charming  in 
her  little  matronly  bonnet ;  her  costume  was 
otherwise  somewhat  noticeably  sober,  and  cer- 
tainly she  had  never  felt  more  sensibly  the 
married  sister  than  now,  as  she  glanced  at 
Christina  with  furtive  anxiety,  but  open  admi- 
ration. Tiny  was  neatly  dressed  in  white,  and 
her  hat  was  white  also.  "  Do  you  know  why 
I  wear  a  white  hat?"  she  asked  Erskine  on 
the  way ;  but  her  question  proved  merely  to 
be  an  impudent  adaptation  of  a  very  disrepu- 
table old  riddle,  and  beyond  this  she  was  unu- 
sually silent  during  the  short  drive.  Yet  she 
seemed  not  only  self-possessed,  but  inv/ardly 
at  her  ease.  She  sat  on  the  little  seat  in  front, 
often  turning  round  to  gaze  ahead,  and  her 
curiosity  and  interest  were  very  frank  and  nat- 
ural. So  were  her  admiration  of  the  park,  her 
anxiety  to  see  the  house  itself,  and  even  her 
wonder  at  the  great  length  of  the  drive,  which 
ran  alongside  the  cricket  field,  and  then  bent 
steadily  to  the  left.  When  at  last  the  low  red- 
brick pile  became  visible,  Gallow  Hill  was  seen 
immediately  behind  it,  which  surprised  Chris- 
tina ;  the  lawn  in  front  was  alive  with  people, 
which  put  her  on  her  mettle  ;  and  the  inspirit- 
ing outburst  of  a  military  band  at  that  moment 


136  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

forced  from  her  an  admission  of  the  pleasure 
and  excitement  which  had  been  growing  upon 
her  for  some  minutes. 

"  I  Hke  this  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  This  is 
first-rate  England  ! " 

Countess  Dromard  stood  on  the  edge  of  the 
lawn  at  the  front  of  the  house,  and  apparently 
the  carriages  were  unloading  at  this  side  of 
the  drive.  Ruth  whispered  hurried!}-  that  she 
was  sure  they  were,  but  she  was  not  so  sure 
in  reality,  and  she  now  saw  the  disadvantage 
of  arriving  in  a  wide  gap,  which  deprives  the 
inexperienced  of  their  lawful  cue.  She  was 
quite  right,  however,  and  when  some  minutes 
elapsed  before  the  arrival  of  another  carriage 
to  interrupt  the  charming  little  conversation 
Ruth  had  with  Lady  Dromard,  the  good  of 
the  gap  became  triumphantly  apparent.  The 
countess  was  very  kind  indeed.  She  was  a 
tall,  fine  woman,  with  whom  the  shadows  of 
life  had  scarce  beo-un  to  leno-then  to  the  eve  ; 
her  face  was  not  only  handsome,  but  wonder- 
fully fresh,  and  she  had  a  trick  of  lowering  it 
as  she  chatted  with  Ruth,  bending  over  her  in 
a  way  which  was  comfortable  and  almost  moth- 
erly from  the  first.  She  had  heard  of  Mrs. 
Holland,  whom  she  was  glad  to  meet  at  last, 


"COUNTESS  DROMARD   AT  HOME."  137 

and  of  whom  she  now  hoped  to  see  something" 
more.  Ruth  observed  that  they  had  the  rec- 
tory only  till  September ;  she  was  sorry  her 
time  was  so  short.  Lady  Dromard  very  flat- 
teringly echoed  her  sorrow,  and  also  professed 
an  envious  admiration  for  the  rectory,  which 
she  described  as  idyllic.  That  was  practically 
all.  What  was  said  of  the  weather  hardly 
counted ;  and  a  repetition  of  her  ladyship's 
hopes  of  seeing  something  more  of  Mrs.  Hol- 
land and  her  party  was  not  worth  remember- 
ing, according  to  Erskine,  who  declared  that 
this  meant  nothing  at  all. 

Ruth,  however,  was  not  likely  to  forget  it; 
though  she  treasured  just  as  much  the  memory 
of  a  certain  glance  which  she  had  caught  the 
countess  leveling  at  her  sister.  She  thought 
that  other  eyes  also  were  attracted  by  the 
white-robed  Tiny,  and  the  smooth-shaven  turf 
was  air  to  Ruth's  tread  as  she  marched  off 
with  her  husband  and  that  cynosure.  Nor 
was  her  satisfaction  decreased  when  the  first 
person  they  came  across  chanced  to  be  no 
other  than  Mrs.  Willoughby.  This  meeting 
was  literally  the  unexpected  treat  that  Ruth 
pronounced  it  to  be,  for  the  clergyman's  wife 
was  smiling  in  a  manner  which   showed  that 


138  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

she    had    witnessed    the    countess'    singular 
civility  to  her  friend. 

"Yes,  I'm  here  after  all,"  said  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby  grimly.  "  Henry  made  me  very  angry 
by  insisting  on  coming,  but  of  course  I  wasn't 
going  to  let  him  come  alone.  I  hope  you 
think  he  looks  happy  now  he's  here!"  (Mr. 
Willoughby  and  a  brother  rector  might  have 
been  hatching  dark  designs  against  their 
bishop,  who  was  himself  present,  judging  by 
their  looks.)  "/call  him  the  picture  of  miser}'. 
Well,  Mrs.  Holland,  I  hope  you  are  gratified 
at  your  reception  !  Oh,  it  was  quite  gushing, 
I  assure  you ;  we  have  all  been  watching. 
But  wait,  till  you  meet  them  in  Piccadilly,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Holland." 

Mrs.  Holland  left  the  reply  to  her  husband, 
who,  however,  contented  himself  with  promis- 
ing Mrs.  Willoughby  a  telegraphic  report  of 
the  proceedings  at  that  meeting,  if  it  ever  took 
place. 

"  Ah,  there  won't  be  much  to  report,"  said 
that  redoubtable  woman;  "  they  won't  look  at 
you.  But  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  to  see  them 
make  a  deal  of  you  in  the  country,  If  you  let 
them." 

It  did  not  seem  conducive  to  the  enjoyment 


"COUNTESS  DROMARD  AT  HOME."  139 

of  the  afternoon  to  prolong  the  conversation 
with  Mrs.  Willoughby.  The  party  of  three 
wandered  toward  the  band,  admiring-  the 
scarlet  coats  of  the  bandsmen  against  the 
dark  green  of  the  shrubbery,  and  their  bright 
brass  instruments  flaming  in  the  sun.  The 
music  also  was  of  much  spirit  and  gayety, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  a  band  was  an  immense 
improvement  to  a  rite  of  this  sort.  Then 
these  three,  who,  after  all,  knew  very  few 
people  present,  followed  the  example  of 
others,  and  made  a  circuit  of  the  house,  in 
high  good  humor.  But  Tiny  found  herself 
between  two  conversational  fires,  for  Ruth 
would  compel  her  to  express  admiration  for 
the  premises,  which  might  have  been  taken 
for  granted,  while  Erskine  called  her  attention 
to  the  people,  who  were  much  more  entertain- 
ing to  watch.  As  they  passed  a  table  devoted 
to  refreshments,  at  which  a  large  lady  was 
being  waited  upon  very  politely  by  a  small  boy 
in  a  broad  collar,  they  overheard  one  of  those 
scraps  of  conversation  which  amuse  at  the 
moment. 

"So  you're  a  Dromard  boy,  are  you?"  the 
lady  was  saying.  "  I've  never  seen  you  before. 
What  Dromard  boy  •d.xo.yoti,  pray?" 


14°  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  My  name's  Douglas." 

"Oh!  So  you're  tlie  Honorable  Douglas 
Dromard,  are  you  ? " 

The  boy  handed  her  an  ice  without  answer- 
ing as  the  three  passed  on. 

"  I  said  you'd  see  and  hear  some  queer 
things,"  whispered  Mr.  Holland;  ^'but  )ou 
won't  hear  anything  much  finer  than  that. 
The  woman  is  Mrs.  Foster-Simpson  ;  her 
husband's  a  solicitor,  and  may  be  the  Con- 
servative agent,  if  his  wife  doesn't  disqualify 
him.  She  professes  to  know  all  about  the 
Dromards,  as  you  heard  the  other  day.  You 
can  guess  the  kind  of  knowledge.  Even  the 
boy  snubs  her.  Yet  mark  him.  The  mixture 
of  politeness  and  contempt  was  worth  noticing 
in  a  small  boy  like  that.  There's  a  little 
nobleman  for  you  !  " 

"  No,  a  little  Englishman,"  said  Tiny. 
"  Now  that's  a  thing  I  do  envy  you— your 
schoolboys,  your  little  gentlemen  !  We  don't 
grow  them  so  little  in  the  colonies  ;  we  don't 
know  how." 

They  were  walking  on  a  majestic  terrace  in 
the  shadow  of  the  red-brick  house,  their  figures 
mirrored  in  each  mullioned  window  as  they 
passed  it. 


•'COUNTESS  DROMARD  AT  HOMEr  141 

"  I  call  Lord  Manister  the  luckiest  young 
man  In  England,"  Ruth  exclaimed  during  a 
pause  between  the  other  two.  "  To  think  that 
all  this  will  be  his  ! " 

"It  rather  reminds  me  of  Hampton  Court 
on  this  side,"  remarked  Tiny  indifferently. 

"  And  it's  by  no  means  their  only  place,  you 
know ;  there  are  others  they  never  use,  are 
there  not,  Erskine  ? — to  say  nothing  of  all 
those  squares  and  streets  in  town  !  " 

But  Erskine  sounded  the  thick  sibilant  of 
silence  as  they  passed  a  shabby  looking  person 
with  a  slouching  walk  and  a  fair  beard. 

"  I  wonder  how  he  got  here  ?  "  Tiny  mur- 
mured next  moment. 

"  He  has  a  better  rioht  than  most  of  us." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Erskine  ?  " 

''  Well,  it's  the  earl." 

"  Earl  Dromard  ?  I  should  have  guessed 
his  gardener !" 

"  No,  that's  the  earl.  Old  clothes  are  his 
special  fancy  in  the  country.  It's  his  particu- 
lar form  of  side,  so  they  say." 

"  Well,"  said  Tiny,  "  I  prefer  it  to  his  son's, 
which  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  the 
other  extreme." 

'*  I    am   sure    Lord    Manister   is  not  over- 


142       •  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

dressed,"  remonstrated  Ruth,  with  her  usual 
alacrity  in  defense  of  his  lordship. 

"  No,  that's  the  worst  of  him,"  answered 
her  sister.  "There  is  nothing  to  find  fault 
with,  ever  ;  that's  what  makes  one  think  he 
employs  his  intellect  on  the  study  of  his 
appearance." 

They  had  seen  Lord  Manister  in  the  dis- 
tance. Presumably  he  had  not  seen  them,  but 
he  might  have  done  so  ;  and  Ruth  supposed 
it  was  the  doubt  that  made  her  sister  speak  of 
him  more  captiously  than  usual.  But  the  crit- 
icism was  not  utterly  unfair,  as  Ruth  might 
presently  have  seen  for  herself  ;  for  as  they 
came  back  to  the  front  of  the  house,  Lord 
Manister  detached  himself  from  a  group,  and 
approached  them  with  the  suave  smile  and  the 
slight  flourish  of  the  hat  which  were  two  of  his 
tricks.  Christina  asked  afterward  if  the  flour- 
ish was  not  dreadfully  continental,  but  she  was 
told  that  it  was  merely  up  to  date,  like  the  hat 
itself.  At  the  time,  however,  she  introduced 
Lord  Manister  to  her  sister  Mrs.  Erskine  Hol- 
land, and  to  Mr.  Holland,  taking  this  liberty 
with  charming  grace  and  tact,  yet  wMth  a 
becoming  amount  of  natural  shyness.  Manis- 
ter, for  one,  was  pleased  with  the  introduction 


'*  COUNTESS  DROMARD  AT  HOME."  143 

on  all  grounds.  From  the  first,  however,  he 
addressed  himself  to  the  married  lady,  speak- 
ing partly  of  the  surrounding  country,  for  which 
Ruth  could  not  say  too  much,  and  partly  of 
Melbourne,  which  enabled  him  to  return  her 
compliments.  His  manner  was  eminently 
friendly  and  polite.  Discovering  that  they  had 
not  yet  been  in  the  house  for  tea,  he  led  the 
way  thither,  and  through  a  throng  of  people  in 
the  hall,  and  so  into  the  dining  room.  Here  he 
saved  the  situation  from  embarrassment  by 
making  himself  equally  attentive  to  another 
party.  To  Ruth,  however.  Lord  Manister's 
civility  was  still  sufficiently  marked,  while  he 
asked  her  husband  whether  he  was  a  cricketer  ; 
and  this  reminded  him  of  Herbert,  for  whom 
he  gave  Miss  Luttrell  a  message.  He  said 
they  had  just  arranged  some  cricket  for  the 
last  week  of  the  month  ;  he  thought  they  would 
be  glad  of  Miss  Luttrell's  brother  in  one  or  two 
of  the  matches.  But  he  seemed  to  fear  that 
most  of  the  teams  were  made  up  ;  his  young 
brother  was  arranging  everything.  Christina 
gathered  that  in  any  case  they  would  be  glad 
to  see  Herbert  at  the  nets  any  afternoon  of  the 
following  week,  more  especially  on  the  Mon- 
day.    Lord  Manister  made  a  point  of  the  mes- 


144  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

sage,  and  also  of  the  cricket  week,  "when," 
he  said,  "you  must  all  turn  up  if  it's  fine." 
And  those  were  his  last  words  to  them. 

"  I  see  you  know  my  son,"  said  the  countess 
in  her  kindliest  manner  as  Ruth  thanked  her 
for  a  charming  afternoon. 

"  My  sister  met  him  the  other  day  at  Lady 
Almeric's,"  replied  Ruth,  "  and  before  that  in 
Australia." 

"  I  knew  Lord  Manister  in  Melbourne," 
added  Tiny  with  freedom. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  are  Austra- 
lians?" said  Lady  Dromard  in  a  tone  that 
complimented  the  girls  at  the  expense  of  their 
country.  "Then  you  must  certainly  come 
and  see  me,"  she  added  cordially,  though  her 
surprise  was  still  upon  her.  "  I  am  greatly 
interested  in  Australia  since  my  son  was  there. 
I  feel  I  have  a  welcome  for  all  Australians — 
you  welcomed  him,  you  know  ! " 

Christina  afterward  expressed  the  firm  opin- 
ion that  Lady  Dromard  had  said  this  rather 
strangely,  which  Ruth  as  firmly  denied.  Tiny 
was  accused  of  an  imaginative  self-conscious- 
ness, and  the  accusation  provoked  a  blush, 
which  Ruth  took  care  to  remember.  Cer- 
tainly, if  the  countess  had  spoken  quecrly,  the. 


"COUNTESS  DROMARD  AT  HOME."  145 

queerness  had  escaped  the  one  person  who  was 
not  on  the  lookout  for  something  of  the  kind  ; 
Erskine  Holland  had  perceived  nothing  but 
her  ladyship's  condescension,  which  had  been 
indeed  remarkable,  though  Erskine  still  told 
his  wife  to  expect  no  further  notice  from  that 
quarter. 

"  And  I'm  selfish  enough  to  hope  you'll  get 
none,  my  dears,"  he  said  to  the  girls  that 
evening  as  they  sauntered  through  the 
kitchen  garden  after  dinner ;  "  because  for 
my  part  I'd  much  rather  not  be  noticed  by 
them.  We  were  not  intended  to  take  seri- 
ously anything  that  was  said  this  afternoon  ; 
honey  was  the  order  of  the  day  for  all  comers 
— and  can't  you  imagine  them  wiping  their 
foreheads  when  we  were  all  gone  ?  I  only 
hope  they  wiped  us  out  of  their  heads  !  We're 
much  happier  as  we  are.  I'm  not  rabid,  like 
Mrs.  Willoughby  ;  but  she  prophesied  a  very 
possible  experience,  when  all's  said  and  done, 
confound  her  !  I  have  visions  of  Piccadilly 
myself.  And  seriously,  Ruth,  you  wouldn't 
like  it  if  you  became  friendly  with  these  peo- 
ple here  and  they  cut  you  in  town  ;  no  more 
should  I.  I  think  you  can't  be  too  careful 
with  people  of  that   sort  ;  and  if  they  ask  us 


146  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

again  I  vote  we  don't  go  ;  but  they  won't  ask 
us  any  more,  you  may  depend  upon  it." 

"  I  don't  depend  upon  it,  all  the  same," 
replied  Ruth,  with  some  spirit.  "  Lady 
Dromard  was  most  kind  ;  and  as  for  Lord 
Manister,  /was  enchanted  with  him." 

"  Were  you  ?  "  Tiny  said,  feeling  vaguely 
that  she  was  challenged. 

"  I  was ;  I  thought  him  unaffected  and 
friendly,  and  even  simple.  I  am  sure  he  is 
simple-minded!  I  am  also  sure  that  you  won't 
find  another  young  man  in  his  position  who  is 
better  natured  or  better  hearted " 

"  Or  better  mannered — or  better  dressed  ! 
You  are  quite  right  ;  he  is  nearly  perfect.  He 
is  rather  too  perfect  for  me  in  his  manners  and 
appearance  ;  I  should  like  to  untidy  him  ;  I 
should  like  to  put  him  in  a  temper.  Lord 
Manister  was  never  in  a  temper  in  his  life  ; 
he's  nicer  than  most  people — but  he's  too  nice 
altogether  for  me  ! " 

"You  knew  him  rather  well  in  Melbourne?" 
said  Erskine,  eyeing  his  sister-in-law  curi- 
ously ;  her  face  was  toward  the  moon,  and 
her  expression  was  set  and  scornful. 

"  Very  well  indeed,"  she  answered  with  her 
erratic  candor. 


'*  COUNTESS  DROMARD  AT   HOME."  147 

**  I  might  have  guessed  as  much  that  time 
in  town.  I  say,  if  we  meet  him  in  Piccadilly 
we  may  score  off  Mrs.  Willoughby  yet  !  Wait 
till  we  get  back " 

"  All  right  ;  only  don't  let  us  wait  out  here," 
Ruth  interrupted — "or  Tiny  and  I  may  have 
to  gfo  back  in  our  coffins  !  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MOTHER  AND  SON. 

A  CLEVER  man  is  not  necessarily  an  infallible 
prophet ;  and  the  clever  man  who  is  married 
may  well  preserve  an  intellectual  luster  in  the 
eyes  of  his  admirer  by  never  prophesying  at 
all.  But  should  he  take  pleasure  in  predict- 
ing the  thing  that  is  openly  deprecated  at  the 
other  side  of  the  hearth,  let  him  see  to  it  that 
his  prediction  comes  true,  for  otherwise  he  has 
whetted  a  blade  for  his  own  breast,  from 
whose  justifiable  use  only  an  angel  could  ab- 
stain. There  was  no  angel  in  the  family 
which-  had  been  brought  up  on  Wallandoon 
Station,  New  South  Wales.  When,  within 
the  next  three  days,  Ruth  received  a  note  from 
Lady  Dromard  inviting  them  all  to  dinner  at 
a  very  early  date,  she  did  not  fail  to  prod  Er- 
skine  as  he  deserved.  But  her  thrust  was  not 
malignant ;  nor  did  she  give  vexatious  vent  to 
her  own  triumph,  which  was  considerable. 

"You  are  a  very  clever  man,"  she  merely 

148 


MOTHER  AND    SON.  149 

told  him,  and  with  the  relish  of  a  wife  who 
can  say  this  from  her  heart ;  "  but  you  see, 
you're  wrong  for  once.  Lady  Dromard  did 
mean  what  she  said.  She  wants  us  all  to  dine 
there  on  Friday  evening,  when,  as  it  happens, 
we  have  no  other  engagement ;  and  really 
I  don't  see  how  we  can  refuse." 

"You  mean  that  you  would  like  to  get  out 
of  it  if  you  could?"  her  husband  said. 

"You  don't  need  to  be  sarcastic,"  remarked 
Ruth  with  a  slight  flush.  "  Who  wants  to 
get  out  of  it  ?" 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  did,  my  dear  ;  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  rather  hoped  so." 

"You  don't  want  to  go  !  " 

"  I  can't  say  I  jump." 

Ruth  colored  afresh. 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  you,  Erskine ! 
Nobody  is  dying  to  go  ;  but  I  own  I  can't  see 
any  reason  against  going,  nor  any  excuse  for 
stopping  away ;  and  considering  what  you 
yourself  said  about  going  to  the  garden  party, 
dear,  I  must  say  I  think  you're  rather  incon- 
sistent." 

Holland  crazed  down  into  the  flushed,  frown- 
ing  face,  that  frowned  so  seldom,  and  flushed 
so  prettily.      Always  an  undemonstrative  hus- 


ISO  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

band,  very  properly  he  had  been  more  so  than 
ever  since  others  had  been  staying  in  the 
house.  But  neither  of  those  others  was  pres- 
ent now,  and  rather  suddenly  he  stooped  and 
kissed  his  wife. 

"  There  is  no  reason,  and  there  would  be 
no  excuse  ;  so  you  are  quite  right,"  he  said 
kindly.  "  It's  only  that  one  has  a  constitu- 
tional dislike  to  being  taken  up — and  dropped. 
I  have  visions  of  all  that.  I'm  afraid  Mrs. 
Willoughby  has  poisoned  my  mind  ;  we  will 
go,  and  let  us  hope  it'll  prove  an  antidote." 

They  went,  and  that  dinner  party  was  not 
the  formidable  affair  it  might  have  been  ;  as 
Lady  Dromard  herself  said,  most  graciously, 
it  was  not  a  dinner  party  at  all.  Ten,  how- 
ever, sat  down,  of  whom  four  came  from  the 
rectory  ;  for  Herbert  had  been  over  to  practice 
at  the  nets,  and  was  fairly  satisfied  with  his 
treatment  on  that  occasion,  which  accounted 
for  his  presence  on  this.  The  only  other 
guests  were  an  inevitable  divine  and  his  wife. 
The  earl  was  absent.  As  if  to  conserve 
Christina's  impression  of  the  old  clothes  in 
which,  as  the  natives  said,  his  lordship  "liked 
himself,"  Earl  Dromard  had  left  for  London 
rather  suddenly  that  morning.     Lord  Manister 


MOTHER  AND   SON.  15 1 

filled  his  place  impeccably,  with  Ruth  at  her 
best  on  his  right.  Herbert  was  less-  happy 
with  Lady  Mary  Dromard,  a  very  proud  per- 
son, who  could  also  be  very  rude  in  the  most 
elegant  manner.  But  Christina  fell  to  the 
jolliest  scion  of  the  house,  Mr.  Stanley 
Dromard ;  and  this  pair  mutually  enjoyed 
themselves. 

Young  in  every  way  was  the  Honorable  Stan- 
ley Dromard.  He  had  just  left  Eton,  where  he 
had  been  in  the  eleven,  like  his  brother  before 
him  ;  he  was  to  go  into  residence  at  Trinity  in 
October.  With  a  quantum  of  gentlemanly  in- 
terest he  heard  that  Miss  Luttrell's  brother 
was  also  going  up  to  Cambridge  next  term  ; 
but  not  to  Trinity.  Said  Mr.  Dromard,  "  Your 
brother's  a  bit  of  a  cricketer,  too  ;  he  came 
over  for  a  knock  the  other  day  ;  he  means  to 
play  for  us  next  week,  if  we're  short,  doesn't 
he?"  Christina  fancied  so.  Mr.  Dromard  said 
"  Good  !  "  with  some  emphasis,  and  Herbert's 
name  dropped  out  of  the  conversation.  This 
became  Anglo-Australian,  as  it  was  sure  to, 
and  led  to  some  of  those  bold  comparisons  for 
which  Christina  was  generally  to  be  trusted ; 
but  the  bolder  they  were,  the  more  Mr. 
Dromard  enjoyed  them,  for  the  girl  glittered 


152  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

in  his  eyes.  He  was  a  delightfully  appre- 
ciative youth,  if  easily  amused,  and  his  lauoh- 
ter  sharpened  Tiny's  wits.  She  shone  con- 
sciously, but  yet  calmly,  and  made  a  really 
remarkable  impression  upon  her  companion, 
without  once  meeting  Lord  Manister's  glance, 
which  rested  on  her  sometimes  for  a  second. 

So  the  flattering  attentions  of  young  Drom- 
ard  were  not  terminated,  but  merely  inter- 
rupted, by  the  flight  of  the  ladies.  When  the 
men  followed  them  to  the  drawing  room  the 
younger  son  shot  to  Miss  Luttrell's  side  with 
the  fine  regardlessness  of  nineteen,  and  fur- 
thered their  friendship  by  divulging  the 
Mundham  plans  for  the  following  week.  The 
cricket  was  to  begin  on  the  Tuesday.  The 
men  were  coming  the  day  before :  half  the 
Eton  eleven,  Tiny  understood,  and  some 
older  young  fellows  of  Manister's  standing. 
The  first  two  were  to  be  two-day  matches 
against  the  county  and  a  Marylebone  team. 
The  Saturday's  match  would  be  between 
Mundham  Hall  and  another  scratch  eleven, 
"  and  that's  when  we  may  want  your  brother, 
Miss  Luttrell,"  added  Mr.  Dromard,  "  tliough 
we  might  want  him  before.  Our  team  lias 
been    made    up    some   time,  but  somebody  is 


MOTHER  AND   SON.  1S3 

sure  to  have  some  other  fixture  for  Satur- 
day." 

"  I  think  he  may  like  to  play,"  said  Chris- 
tina. 

Mr.  Dromard  seemed  a  little  surprised. 

"It's  a  jolly  ground,"  he  remarked,  "and 
there  will  be  some  first-rate  players." 

"  I  am  sure  he  would  like  a  game  on  your 
ground,"  Christina  went  so  far  as  to  say. 

"  Do  you  dance,  Miss  Luttrell?"  asked  the 
young  man,  after  a  pause. 

''When  I  get  the  chance,"  said  Christina. 

He  gazed  at  her  a  moment,  and  could 
imagine  her  dancing — with  him. 

"  Suppose  we  were  to  do  something  of  the 
kind  here  one  evening  between  the  matches  ; 
would  you  come  ?  " 

"  If  I  got  the  chance,"  said  Christina. 

Dromard  considered  what  he  was  saying. 
"We  ought  to  have  a  dance,"  he  added  in  a 
doubtful  tone,  as  though  the  need  were  greater 
than  the  chance;  "we  really  ought.  But  I 
don't  suppose  we  shall ;  nothing  is  arranged, 
you  see.'* 

"  You  needn't  hedge,  Mr.  Dromard,"  said 
the  girl,  smiling. 

"Eh?" 


1 54  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  I  shan't  expect  an  Invitation  !" 

She  nodded  knowingly  as  he  blushed  ;  but 
he  had  the  great  merit  of  being  easily  amused, 
and  with  another  word  she  made  him  merry 
and  at  ease  again.  Not  unreasonably,  per- 
haps, a  casual  spectator  might  have  suspected 
these  two  of  a  mild  but  immediate  flirtation. 
Stanley,  however,  was  at  a  safe  and  privileged 
age,  and  no  eye  was  on  him  but  his  brother's. 
Lord  Manister  gave  the  impression  of  being  a 
rather  dignified  person  in  his  ovvm  home,  but 
he  was  doing  his  gracious  duty  by  the  guests, 
none  of  whom  seemed  especially  to  occupy  his 
attention,  while  he  was  reasonably  polite  to 
all.  It  was  he,  too,  who  at  length  suggested 
to  Lady  Dromard  that  Miss  Lut^/ell  would 
probably  sing  something  if  she  were  asked. 

So  Christina  sang  something — it  hardly 
matters  what.  Her  song  was  not  a  classic, 
neither  was  it  grossly  popular.  It  was  a  pleas- 
ant song,  pleasantly  sung,  and  the  entire 
absence  of  pretentiousness  and  of  affectation 
in  the  song  and  the  singing  was  more  notice- 
able than  the  positive  excellence  of  either. 
The  girl  had  no  greater  voice  than  one  would 
have  expected  of  so  small  a  person,  but  what 
she    had    was    in    keeping.       Lady   Dromard, 


MOTHER  AND   SON.  155 

however,  had  a  more  sensitive  appreciation  of 
good  taste  than  of  good  music,  and  she  asked 
for  more.  Christina  sang  successively  some- 
thing of  Lassen's,  and  then  "  Last  Night," 
taking  the  EngHsh  vi^ords  in  each  case.  She 
played  her  own  accompaniments,  and  felt  little 
nervousness  until  her  last  song  was  finished, 
when  it  certainly  startled  her  to  find  Lady 
Dromard  standing  at  her  side. 

"  Thank  you  ! "  said  the  countess  with 
considerable  enthusiasm.  "You  sine  delieht- 
fully,  and  you  sing  delightful  songs.  You 
must  have  been  very  well  taught." 

"  Mostly  in  the  bush,"  said  Christina  truth- 
fully. 

"  You  come  from  the  bush  ?  " 

"  But  you  had  some  lessons  in  Melbourne," 
put  in  Ruth,  who  was  visibly  delighted. 

"Oh,  yes,  a  few,"  Tiny  said,  smiling;  "as 
many  as  I  was  worth." 

"Ah,  you  shall  tell  me  about  Melbourne 
one  day  soon,"  said  Lady  Dromard  to  the 
young  girl.  "Your  sister  has  promised  to 
come  over  and  watch  tlie  cricket.  I  do  hope 
you  will  come  with  her." 

Christina  expressed  her  pleasure  at  the 
prospect,  and,  taking  the  nearest   seat,  found 


156  TINY  LUTTRELL.       , 

Lord  Manister  leanlno-  over  the  end  of  the 
piano  and  looking  down  upon  her  with  a 
rather  sardonic  smile. 

"You  haven't  looked  at  me  this  evening," 
he  said  to  her  under  cover  of  the  general  con- 
versation, which  was  now  renewed.  "  May  I 
ask  what  I  have  done  ?  " 

"  Certainly  you  may  ask,  Lord  Manister," 
answered  the  girl  with  immense  simplicity ; 
"  but  I  can't  tell  you,  because  I  am  not  aware 
that  you  have  done  anything  beyond  making 
us  all  very  happy  and  at  home." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  Manis- 
ter, w^hose  quasi-humorous  tone  lacked  the 
lightness  to  deceive ;  "  I  was  afraid  I  had 
offended  you." 

"  Offended  me  !  "  cried  Christina,  with  widen- 
ing eyes  and  a  puzzled  look.  "  When  have 
you  seen  me  to  offend  me  !  I  haven't  seen 
you  since  your  garden  party,  and  you  certainly 
didn't  offend  me  then — you  were  awfully  nice 
to  us  all  ! " 

"Ah,  that  wasn't  seeing  you,"  Lord  Manis- 
ter murmured.  "  I  don't  reckon  that  I've  seen 
you  since — the  photographs.  I  had  to  go  to 
Scotland  ;  I  meant  to  tell  you." 

"  It   wouldn't    have    interested    me,"   said 


MOTHER  AND   SON.  i57 

Christina,  with  a  shrug.  "  It  might  have 
interested  me  if  you  had  said — you  were  7iot 
going,"  she  added  next  moment.  Her  tone 
had  dropped.  She  looked  at  him  and 
smiled. 

Her  smile  stayed  with  him  after  she  was 
gone ;  but  from  his  face  you  would  not  have 
guessed  that  he  was  nursing  a  kind  look.  She 
had  given  him  one  smile,  which  made  up  for 
many  things.  But  you  would  have  thought, 
with  his  people,  that  he  had  been  suffering 
the  whole  evening  from  acute  boredom  :  you 
might  well  have  fancied,  with  Lady  Mary,  that 
a  remark  disparaging  Australian  women  would 
have  met  with  a  grateful  response  from  him. 
The  response  it  did  meet  with  w^as  anything 
but  grateful  to  Lady  Mary  Dromard.  It 
drove  her  from  the  room,  in  which  Manister 
and  his  mother  w^ere  presently  left  alone. 

"  I  think  you  w^ere  just,"  the  countess  said 
critically.  *'  They  are  pleasant  people,  and 
quite  all  right.  The  young  man  is  their  weak 
point." 

"They  always  are,"  her  son  remarked, 
rather  savagely  still.     "They're  larrikins!" 

"  The  young  girl  was  especially  nice,  and 
sang  like  a  lady." 


158  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Ah,  you  approve  of  her,"  said  Lord 
Manister  dryly. 

"  Entirely,  I  think.  Evidently  you  don't. 
I  only  saw  you  speak  to  her  once,  toward  the 
end.  Yet  she  has  met  you  in  Australia ;  I 
should  have  recognized  that,  I  think.  Now 
her  people,"  Lady  Dromard  added  tentatively, 
"  will  be  rather  superior,  I  suppose,  as  colo- 
nials go  ?" 

"  Well,  they're  rich  ;  I  suppose  that's  how 
colonials  go." 

For  one  moment  Lady  Dromard  fancied 
that  the  sneer  was  for  the  colonials,  and  it 
surprised  her ;  the  next,  she  took  it  to  herself, 
and  very  meekly  for  so  proud  a  heart. 

"  My  dear  boy  ! "  she  murmured  indul- 
gently. "Apart  from  their  people,  these  girls 
— for  the  married  one  is  as  young  as  she  has 
any  right  to  be — strike  one  as  fresh,  and 
free,  and  pleasing.  And  they  are  ladies.  Am 
I  to  believe  that  the  majority  out  there  are 
like  them  ?" 

Manister  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  That's  as  you  please,  my  dear  mother. 
These  people  didn't  strike  me  as  the  only 
decent  ones  in  Melbourne.  I  did  meet 
others." 


MOTHER  AND   SON.  1 59 

The  countess  tapped  her  foot  upon  the 
fender,  and  took  counsel  with  her  own  reflec- 
tion in  the  mirror,  for  she  was  standing  before 
the  fireplace  while  her  son  wandered  about 
the  room — her  son  with  the  reputation  for  a 
childlike  devotion  to  his  mother.  There  had 
been  little  of  that  sort  of  devotion  since  his 
return  from  Australia.  Nothing  between 
them  v/as  as  it  had  been  before.  This  bitter 
coldness  had  been  his  domestic  manner — his 
manner  with  her,  of  all  people — longer  than 
the  mother  could  bear.  She  knew  the  rea- 
son ;  she  had  tried  to  tell  him  so ;  she  had 
tried  to  speak  freely  to  him  of  the  whole  mat- 
ter— even  penitently,  if  he  would.  But  he 
had  never  spoken  freely  to  her ;  and  once  he 
had  refused  to  speak  at  all,  thence  or  thence- 
forth. Lady  Dromard  had  made  a  resolve 
then  which  she  remembered  now. 

"Really,  Harry,  I  can't  make  you  out," 
she  said  lightly  at  length.  "You  knock  down 
the  colonials  with  one  hand,  and  you  set  them 
up  with  the  other,  as  though  they  were  so 
many  ninepins.  I  am  puzzled  to  know  what 
you  really  mean,  and  what  you  mean  satir- 
ically. You  never  used  to  be  satirical,  Harry  ! 
I   should    like  to    know   whether   you    really 


l6o  IVNY  LUTTRELL. 

approve    of    these    people,    or    whether   you 

d>,  )> 
on  t. 

"  I  do  approve  of  them,"  said  Lord  Manis- 
ter,  halting  on  the  rug  before  his  mother.  "  I 
won't  put  it  more  strongly.  But  I  am  glad 
that  you  should  have  seen  there  are  such 
things  as  ladies  in  Australia!" 

Their  eyes  met,  and  the  mother  forgot  her 
resolve  ;  for  he  had  raised  the  subject  himself, 
and  for  the  first  time, 

"You  think  of  her  still!"  whispered  Lady 
Dromard. 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  returned  Manister, 
roughly ;  and  again  he  was  striding  about  the 
room. 

Never  in  her  life,  perhaps,  had  the  countess 
received  a  sharper  hurt ;  for  he  had  refused  to 
see  the  hand  she  had  reached  out  to  him 
involuntarily.  Yet  assuredly  Lady  Dromard 
had  never  spoken  in  a  more  ordinary  tone 
than  that  of  her  next  words,  a  minute  later. 

"  It  occurred  to  me,  Harry,  that  if  we  really 
think  of  dancing  one  evening  during  the 
cricket  week,  we  might  do  worse  than  ask 
these  people  from  the  rectory.  You  must 
have  girls  to  dance  with.  Still,  if  you  think 
better  not,  you  have  only  to  say  so." 


MOTHER  AND   SON.  i6l 

**  I  think  it's  for  you  to  decide  ;  but,  if  you 
ask  me,  I  don't  see  the  least  objection  to  it," 
said  Lord  Manister,  with  a  smooth  ceremony 
that  had  a  sharper  edge  than  his  rough  words. 
"  I'm  not  sure,  hov/ever,  that  they  will  come 
every  time  you  ask  them." 

"Pourquoi?" 

"  Because  they're  the  most  independent 
people  in  the  world,  the  Australians." 

"It  would  scarcely  touch  their  independ- 
ence," said  Lady  Dromard  with  careless  con- 
tempt;  "but  we  can  really  do  without  them, 
and  I  am  glad  of  your  hint,  because  now  I 
shall  not  think  of  asking  them." 

"  Now,  my  dear  mother,"  cried  Lord  Manis- 
ter, no  longer  either  hot  or  cold,  but  his  old 
self  for  once  in  his  anxiety — "  you  misunder- 
stand me  entirely  !  I'm  not  great  on  a  dance 
at  all,  but  if  we're  to  have  one  we  must,  as 
you  say,  have  somebody  to  dance  wich  ;  and  I 
want  you  to  ask  these  people." 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  THREATENING  DAWN. 

"  I  LIKE  a  dance  where  you  can  dance,"  said 
Herbert,  who  was  looking  at  himself  in  a 
glass  and  wondering  how  long  his  white  tie 
had  been  on  one  side.  "  It  was  worth  fifty  of 
the  swell  show  you  took  us  to  in  town,  Ruth." 

"  I  am  glad  you  two  have  enjoyed  it  so," 
returned  Ruth,  with  her  eye,  however,  upon 
her  husband.  "  Of  course  there's  a  great  dif- 
ference between  a  big  dance  in  town  and  a 
little  one  in  the  country." 

Tiny  seemed  busy.  She  was  tearing  her 
programme  into  small  pieces,  and  dropping 
them  at  her  feet,  so  that  when  she  had  gone 
up  to  bed  it  was  as  though  a  paper  chase  had 
passed  through  the  rectory  study,  where  they 
had  all  gathered  for  a  few  moments  on  their 
return  from  the  dance.  Christina,  however, 
was  not  too  preoccupied  to  chime  in  on  her 
own  note : 

ite 


A    THREATENING  DAIVN.  1 63 

"  It's  like  the  difference  between  RIverina 
and  Victoria  —  there  were  acres  to  the  sheep 
instead  of  sheep  to  the  acre." 

Now  there  was  no  merit  in  this  speech,  but 
to  those  who  understood  it  the  comparison 
was  apt,  and  Erskine  knew  enough  of  Aus- 
traha  to  understand.  Moreover,  he  had  taught 
Tiny  to  Hsten  for  his  laugh.  So  when  he 
made  neither  sound  nor  sign  the  girl  felt 
injured,  but  remembered  that  he  had  been 
extremely  silent  on  the  way  home.  And  he 
was  the  first  to  go  upstairs. 

"  It  has  bored  him,"  observed  Christina. 

"  He  don't  like  dancing,"  said  Herbert. 
"  He's  no  sportsman." 

"  I  am  afraid  he  cares  for  nothing  but  lawn 
tennis  when  he's  here,"  sighed  Ruth,  who 
looked  a  little  troubled.  "  I  am  afraid  he  dis- 
likes going  out  in  the  countr\'." 

They  were  silent  for  some  minutes  before 
Tiny  exclaimed  with  conviction  : 

'*  No  ;  it's  the  Dromards  he  dislikes." 

And  presently  they  made  a  move  from  the 
room.  But  on  the  stairs  they  met  Erskine 
comincr  down,  havinof  chan<jed  his  dress  suit 
for  flannels  ;  and  Ruth  followed  him  back  to 
the  study,  eying  the  change  with  dismay. 


1 64  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Surely  you're  not  going  to  sit  up  at  this 
hour?" 

Ruth  had  raised  her  glance  from  his  flannels 
to  his  face,  which  troubled  her  more. 

"  I'm  afraid  the  fine  weather's  at  an  end," 
Erskine  answered  crookedly ;  "  it's  most 
awfully  close,  at  any  rate.  And  I  want  a 
pipe." 

He  proceeded  to  fill  one  with  his  back  to 
her. 

"Erskine!" 

"Well,  dear?" 

"I  won't  be  'dear'  to  you  when  you're 
cross  with  me.  I  want  to  know  what  I  have 
done  to  vex  you." 

He  had  struck  a  match,  and  he  lit  his  pipe 
before  answering.  Then  he  said  gently 
enough  : 

"  If  3'ou  think  I'm  cross  with  you  I  should 
run  away  to  bed  ;  I  certainly  don't  mean  to 
be." 

But  he  had  not  turned  round. 

"  You  succeed,  at  any  rate  !  As  you  seem 
to  wish  it,  I  shall  take  your  advice." 

Erskine  heard  her  on  the  stairs  with  a 
twinoe  in  his  heart.  He  went  to  the  door  to 
call  her  down  and  be  frank  with  her,  but  the 


A    THREATENING  DAWN.  165 

shutting  of  her  own  door  checked  him.  Set- 
ting  this  one  ajar,  he  threw  up  the  window, 
and  stood  frowning  at  the  opaque  pall  that 
seemed  to  have  been  let  down  behind  it  like 
an  outer  blind.  So  he  remained  for  some 
minutes  before  remembering  the  easy-chair. 
No  one  knew  better  than  Erskine  that  he  had 
just  been  unkind  to  his  wife.  He  was  not 
pleased  with  her,  but  he  had  refused  to  explain 
his  displeasure  when  she  invited  him  to  do  so. 
There  was  this  difficulty  in  explaining  it — 
that  he  knew  it  to  be  unreasonable,  since  the 
person  who  had  vexed  him  most  was  not  Ruth, 
but  Christina.  And  not  more  reasonable  was 
his  disappointment  in  Christina,  as  he  also 
knew.  Yet  the  one  thing  in  life  not  disap- 
pointing to  him  at  the  moment  was  his  pipe ; 
even  the  fine  weather  was  most  surely  at  an 
end. 

He  was  tired  of  the  rectory,  which,  wet  or 
fair,  had  no  longer  either  light  or  shadow  of 
its  own,  for  both  were  now  absorbed  in  the 
deepening  shadow  of  the  hall.  A  week  ago 
they  had  all  dined  there,  now  they  had  been 
dancing  there,  and  meanwhile  the  girls  had 
watched  one  of  the  matches,  and  were  going 
to    another.     Erskine   had  been   opposed    to 


1 66  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  dance,  but  the  wife  had  prevailed  ;  he 
was  against  their  going  to  another  match,  but 
doubtless  Ruth  would  have  her  way  again,  for 
she  had  shown  a  tenacity  of  purpose  that  sur- 
prised him  in  her,  while  he  was  crippled  by  a 
conscious  lack  of  logic  in  his  objections.  He 
was  not  an  arbitrary  person,  and  it  seemed 
that  Ruth  would  stop  for  nothing  less  than  a 
command  where  her  heart  was  set ;  and  her 
sister  was  with  her.  The  whole  trouble  was, 
where  their  hearts  were  set. 

He  tried  hard  not  to  think  the  worst  of 
Tiny,  or  rather  the  worst  as  it  seemed  to  him. 
To  make  it  easier,  he  called  to  mind  various 
things  she  had  said  to  him  at  various  times 
concerning  Lord  Manister,  of  whom  she  had 
seldom  failed  to  make  fun.  It  amused  and 
consoled  Erskine  to  remember  the  fun  ;  there 
must  be  hope  for  her  still.  Then  he  recalled 
common  gossip  about  Lord  Manister  and  his 
affairs  ;  and  there  was  hope  on  that  side  too. 
In  less  than  a  week  the  danger  would  be  past, 
and  those  two  would  never  see  each  other 
again.  Consideration  of  the  danger  he  had 
in  mind,  qiid  danger,  provoked  a  smile.  Tiny 
herself  would  have  enjoyed  the  humor  of  that, 
she  was  so  quick   to  see  and  to  enjoy.      But 


A    THREATENING  DAWN.  1 67 

she  could  appreciate  more  than  a  joke,  or  did 
she  only  pretend  to  like  those  books  ?  And 
the  soul  that  shone  sometimes  in  her  eyes,  did 
it  lie  much  deeper  ?  She  interested  Erskine 
the  more  because  he  could  not  be  sure.  She 
was  a  fascinating  study  to  him,  whatever  she 
did  or  was  trying  to  do.  In  any  case,  there 
was  much  good  in  her  that  he  had  fathomed, 
and  more  was  suggested  ;  and  the  finer  the 
nature,  the  stronger  the  contrasts.  Now  as 
to  contrasts — yet  he  had  never  seen  that  in 
Australia. 

"  A  penny  for  your  thoughts  !  " 

Ten  thousand  pounds  would  not  have  bought 
them.  It  was  his  wife  on  the  threshold,  in  a 
pale  pink  wrapper. 

"  My  dear  !  I  pictured  you  asleep  hours 
ago." 

"  Were  you  picturing  me  when  I  spoke  ?  " 
Ruth  said,  with  a  smile.  "  I'm  not  sleepy — 
and  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  May  I  sit  down  ? 
An  hour  more  or  less  makes  no  difference  at 
this  time  of  the  morning." 

Erskine  rose  from  the  easy-chair  in  which 
he  had  been  smoking,  and  settled  his  wife  in 
it  agfainst  her  will,  and  drew  the  curtains  across 
the  open  window. 


1 68  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come  down,  Ruth,  for  I 
want  to  speak  to  you,  too.  I  was  a  brute  to 
you  when  I  sent  you  away  just  now." 

"  Well,  I  really  think  you  were ;  but  I 
know  you  must  have  had  some  reason ;  so 
I've  come  down  to  have  it  out  and  be  done 
with  it." 

"  My  dear  Ruth  !  "  said  Mr.  Holland  uncom- 
fortably ;  for  was  there  any  call  to  be  frank 
with  her  at  all  ?  It  would  hurt  ;  and  could  it 
do  any  good  ? 

"  I  suppose,"  pursued  Ruth  in  a  tone  not 
perfectly  free  from  defiance,  "  it's  all  because 
we  went  to  this  horrid  dance  !  And  I'll  say 
I'm  sorry  we  did  go,  if  you  like  ;  though  why 
you  should  have  such  a  down  on  the  Dromards 
I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  imagine." 

"  My  dear  girl,"  said  Erskine,  smiling  now 
that  he  had  determined  not  to  say  everything, 
"  I  really  have  no  down  on  them  at  all. 
They're  the  most  amiable  family  I  know,  con- 
sidering who  they  are.  They  have  a  charming 
place,  and  they  treat  you  delightfully  while 
you're  there.  Considering  who  we  are,  and 
that  we  have  no  root  in  this  soil,  I  grant  you 
they're  particularly  kind  to  us  ;  but  don't  you 
think  their  kindness  is  just  a  little  trying  ?     I 


A    THREATENING  DAWN.  1 69 

do,  though  I  have  nothing  against  them,  per- 
sonally or  otherwise.  I  am  not  even  a  polit- 
ical opponent ;  if  I  had  a  vote  for  the  division 
young  Manister  should  have  it.  But  I'm  not 
keen  on  so  much  notice  from  them ;  I've  said 
so  before  ;  there's  no  sense  in  it  ! " 

"  Ah,  well,  if  only  you  would  show  me  the 
harm  in  it !  " 

"  Harm  ?  Heaven  forbid  there  should  be 
any.  One  finds  it  a  bore,  that's  all.  It's  a 
selfish  reason,  but  it's  the  truth — I  should 
have  had  a  better  time  this  last  week  if  the 
Dromards  had  been  far  enouQfh  !  " 

"And  we  should  have  had  a  worse — Tiny 
and  I.  No,  Erskine,  I  know  you  better  than 
you  think.  You're  not  so  selfish  as  all  that ; 
there's  some  other  reason."  * 

Erskine  turned  away  with  a  shrug,  to  avoid 
her  glance. 

"  Something  has  annoyed  you  to-night. 
One  of  us  has  behaved  badly.  Was  it  Tiny 
or  was  it " 

"  You  ? "  said  Erskine,  with  a  smile.  "  From 
what  I  saw  of  your  behavior,  my  dear,  it  was 
entirely  creditable  to  you  as  a  chaperon. 
Your  face  was  seventeen,  but  your  air  was  a 
frank  fifty!" 


17°  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Then  it  was  Tiny.  I  suppose  she  danced 
too  much  with  those  boys  they  have  staying  in 
the  house.  I  should  have  thought  there  was 
respectabihty  in  numbers  ;  I  really  don't  see 
how  they  could  matter." 

"  They  seemed  to  matter  to  Manister," 
remarked  Erskine  dryly. 

Ruth  winced,  but  he  had  wondered  whether 
she  would,  or  he  would  never  have  noticed  it. 

"  Surely  you  don't  think  Lord  Manister  cares 
who  dances  with  our  Tiny?" 

The  amusement  in  her  tone  and  manner 
was  cleverly  feigned,  but  instead  of  deceiving 
Erskine  it  spurred  him  to  speak  out,  after  all. 

"  I  hardly  like  to  tell  you  what  I  think  about 
7.  iny  and  Lord  Manister,"  he  said  gravely. 

"What  on  earth  do  you  mean,  Erskine?" 
cried  Ruth,  reddening.  "  Now  you  7mtst  tell 
me!" 

Erskine  temporized,  already  regretting  that 
he  had  said  so  much.  "It  would  hurt  your 
feelings,"  he  warned  her  grimly. 

"  Not  so  much  as  your  silence." 

"  I  wouldn't  say  it  if  I  didn't  look  on  her  as 
my  own  sister  by  this  time,  and  if  I  didn't 
think  her  the  best  little  girl  in  the  world — but 
one." 


A    THREATENING  DAWN.  171 

Now  he  spoke  tenderly. 

"  Say  it,  in  any  case,"  said  Ruth,  who  had 
been  uncommonly  calm. 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  she  is  making  up  to  him, 
if  you  must  know." 

"  Which  is  absurd,"  said  Ruth  lightly  ;  but 
in  her  anxiety  to  remain  cool  she  forgot  to 
seem  surprised  ;  and  that  was  a  mistake. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  really  think  so  ?"  said  her 
husband  very  quietly.  "  If  you  do  I  can't 
agree  with  you  ;  I  wish  I  could." 

"  You  must ! "  cried  Ruth  desperately.  "  Do 
you  know  how  many  dances  she  gave  him 
to-niorht?" 

Erskine  knew  only  of  one  ;  his  eyes  rested 
on  the  remains  of  her  programme  lying  on  the 
floor  in  many  fragments. 

"  Well,  that  one  w^as  the  lot ! "  he  was  In- 
formed severely.  "  And  pray  did  3'ou  count 
how  many  times  she  spoke  to  him  the  other 
evening  when  we  dined  at  the  hall  ?" 

"  Not  often,  I  grant  you  ;  I  noticed  that." 

"Yet  you  think  she  is  making  up  to  him!" 

"  It's  a  strong  way  of  putting  it,  I  know," 
said  Erskine  reluctantly;  "but  really  I  can't 
think  of  any  other.  I  wonder  you  don't  realize 
that  there  are  more  ways  of  making  up  to  a 


172  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

man  than  the  dead-set  method.  Can't  you  see 
that  a  far  more  effective  method  is  a  little  judi- 
cious snubbing  and  avoiding,  which  is  coquetry? 
You  take  my  word  for  it,  that's  the  touch  for 
a  man  like  Manister,  who  is  probably  accus- 
tomed to  everything  but  being  snubbed  and 
avoided.  Then  you  speak  of  the  one  dance 
she  gave  him.  Now  I  happen  to  know  that 
they  didn't  dance  it  at  all;  they  spent  the  time 
under  the  stars,  for  it  was  my  misfortune  to 
see  them  and  their  misfortune  not  to  see  me." 

"Well?"  whispered  Ruth;  and  though  she 
had  never  been  so  dark  until  now,  that  whisper 
would  have  drawn  his  lantern  to  her  real  hopes 
and  fears. 

"  I  only  saw  them  for  an  instant :  I  bolted  ; 
so  I  may  easily  be  wrong ;  but  it  struck  me 
that  our  Tiny  was  making  up  for  her  snubbing 
and  avoiding.  It  has  since  occurred  to  me 
that  they  must  have  known  each  other  rather 
well  in  Melbourne — rather  better,  at  any  rate, 
than  you  have  ever  led  me  to  suppose." 

As  a  woman's  last  resource,  Ruth  aimed  a 
stone  at  his  temper. 

"So  that's  it  !  "  she  exclaimed  viciously. 

"  That's  what  ?  " 

"  The  secret  of  your  bad  temper." 


A    THREATENING  DAWN.  1 73 

"Well,  to  be  kept  in  the  dark  doesn't 
sweeten  a  man,  certainly,"  Erskine  answered, 
in  a  tone,  however,  that  was  far  from  bitter. 
"  Then  one  can't  help  feeling  disappointed 
with  Tiny  ;  and  in  this  matter — to  be  frank 
with  you  at  last — I  am  just  a  little  disap- 
pointed in  you  too,  my  dear." 

"  I  always  knew  you  would  be,"  said  Ruth 
dolefully.  For  her  stone  had  missed,  and 
there  was  no  more  fioht  in  her. 

"  Now  don't  be  a  goose.  It's  only  in  this 
one  matter,  in  which — I  can't  help  telling  you — 
I  don't  think  you've  been  perfectly  straight 
with  me." 

"  Oh,  indeed  ! "  cried  Ruth,  as  her  spirit 
made  one  spurt  more.  It  was  the  last.  The 
next  moment  she  was  weeping. 

It  annoys  most  men  to  make  a  woman  cry. 
Those  who  do  not  become  annoyed  make  im- 
petuous atonement,  partly,  no  doubt,  to  drown 
the  hooting  in  their  own  heart.  But  Erskine 
could  not  feel  himself  to  blame,  and  though 
he  spoke  very  kindl)-,  his  kindness  was  too 
nearly  paternal,  and  he  spoke  with  his  elbow 
on  the  chimney-piece.  He  told  Ruth  not  to 
do  that.  He  pointed  out  to  her  that  there 
was  no  crime  in  her  want  of   candor  concern- 


174  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

ing  her  sister's  affairs,  which  were  certainly  no 
business  of  his.  Only,  if  tliere  really  had 
been  something  between  Christina  and  Lord 
Manister  in  Melbourne — if,  for  instance,  Mrs. 
Willoughby  had  gossiped  unwittingly  to 
Christina  about  none  other  than  Christina 
herself — Erskine  put  it  to  his  wife  that  she 
might  have  done  more  wisely  to  place  him  in 
a  position  silently  to  appreciate  such  capital 
jokes.  He  would  have  said  nothing  ;  but  as 
it  was  he  might  easily  have  said  much  to  im- 
peril the  situation  ;  in  fact,  he  had  been  in  a 
false  position  all  along,  more  especially  at  the 
hall.  But  that  was  all.  There  was  really 
nothing  to  cry  about.  Perhaps  to  give  her 
the  fairest  opportunity  to  compose  herself, 
Erskine  crossed  the  room  and  drew  back  the 
curtains  to  let  in  the  gray  morning;  for  the 
birds  had  longr  been  twitterinof. 

But  Ruth  had  been  waitingf  for  the  touch  of 
his  hand,  and  he  had  only  given  her  kind  words. 
She  looked  up,  and  saw  through  her  tears  his 
form  against  the  gray  window,  as  he  shut  down 
the  sash.  The  lamp  burnt  faintly,  and  in  the 
two  wan  lights  it  was  a  chamber  of  misery,  in 
which  one  could  not  sit  alone.  Ruth  rose  and 
ran  to  Erskine,  and  laid  her  hands  upon  his  arm. 


A    THREATENING  DAWN.  1 75 

"  It  Is  raining,"  he  said,  without  looking  at 
her  tears.  "  I  knew  we  were  in  for  a  break 
up  of  the  fine  weather." 

"Never  mind  the  rain!"  Ruth  cried  pite- 
ously,  with  her  face  upon  his  coat.  "  Will 
you  forgive  me  now  if  I  tell  you  everything 
that  I  know — everything?  It  isn't  much, 
because  Tiny  has  been  almost  as  close  with 
me  as  I  have  been  with  you." 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  patting  her  head  at  last, 
and  with  his  arms  around  her  lightly,  "  you 
both  had  a  perfect  right  to  be  close." 

"  But  suppose  I've  been  at  the  bottom  of 
the  whole  thing  ?  Suppose  I  turn  out  a  horrid 
little  intriguer — what  then  ?  " 

She  waited  eagerly,  and  the  pause  seemed 
long. 

"  Well,  you  won't  have  been  intriguing  for 
yourself,"  sighed  Erskine — so  that  her  face 
rose  on  his  breast,  as  on  a  wave. 

And  then,  playing  nervously  with  a  button 
of  his  coat,  Ruth  confessed  all.  As  she  spoke 
she  gathered  confidence,  but  not  enough  to 
watch  his  face.  That  was  turned  to  the  gray 
morning,  and  looked  as  gray  as  it.  The  fine 
weather  had  indeed  broken  up,  and  Essing- 
ham  had  lost  its  savor  for  Erskine  Holland. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


IN    THE    ladies'    TENT. 


And  yet,  even  at  the  time  she  made  it,  Ruth 
little  dreamt  how  deeply  her  confession  both 
galled  and  revolted  her  husband.  He  forgave 
her  very  kindly  in  the  end,  and  that  satisfied- 
her  lean  imagination.  Perhaps  there  was  not 
much  to  forgive.  There  was  enough,  at  all 
events,  to  trouble  Erskine  (to  whom  the  best 
excuse  there  was  for  her  was  the  least  likely 
to  suggest  itself)  ;  but  the  matter  soon  ceased 
to  trouble  Erskine's  wife,  because  his  smile 
was  as  good-tempered  as  before.  He  seemed, 
indeed,  to  think  no  more  about  it.  When 
Ruth  would  speak  confidentially  of  her  hopes 
and  wishes  for  Tiny  (as  though  Erskine  had 
been  in  her  confidence  all  the  time),  he  would 
chat  the  matter  over  with  interest,  which  was 
the  next  best  thing  to  sympathy.  He  had  to 
do  this  oftener  than  he  liked  during  the  next 
twenty-four  hours ;  for  Ruth  really  thought 
that  excessive  candor  now  was  a  more  or  les5? 

176 


IN   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  I77 

adequate  atonement  for  an  excessive  reserve 
in  the  past.  Moreover,  she  genuinely  enjoyed 
talking  openly  at  last  of  the  matter  which  had 
concerned  her  so  long  and  so  severely  in 
secret. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  means  it  ?"  she  asked 
her  husband  several  times. 

"  I  am  afraid  he  thinks  he  does,"  was  one  of 
Holland's  answers. 

"  That's  your  way  of  admitting  it,"  rejoined 
Ruth,  who  could  bear  his  repudiation  of  her 
desires  for  the  sake  of  his  assent  to  her  opin- 
ion, which  Erskine  was  too  honest  to  withhold. 
"  Of  course  he  means  it.  Have  you  noticed 
how  he  watches  her  ?  " 

"  I  have  noticed  it  once  or  twice." 

"  And  did  you  see  him  watching  his  mother, 
the  night  Vv^e  dined  there,  to  see  what  impres- 
sion Tiny  made  upon  her?" 

"So  you  spotted  that!"  Erskine  said  curi- 
ously, not  having  given  his  wife  the  credit  for 
such  acute  perception.  "  Well,  I  own  that 
I  did,  too  ;  and  that  was  worse  than  his  watch- 
ing Tiny.  This  is  a  youth  with  a  well-known 
weakness  for  his  mamma.  She  has  probably 
more  influence  over  him  tiian  any  other  body 
in  the  world.      1    am  prepared  to  bet  that  it 


lyS  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

was  she,  and  she  alone,  who  whistled  him  back 
from  Australia.  Now  though  she  did  it 
partly  by  her  singing — which,  by  the  way,  was 
rather  cheap  for  our  Tiny — there's  no  doubt 
at  all  about  the  impression  Tiny  has  made 
upon  Lady  Dromard ;  and  that's  the  worst 
of  it." 

"  The  worst  of  it  !  as  if  he  was  beneath 
her  !  "  said  Ruth  mockingly.  "  Or  is  it  that 
you  think  her  too  terribly  beneath  him?" 

"  Tiny,"  said  Erskine,  shaking  his  head, 
**  is  beneath  no  man  that  I  have  yet  come 
across." 

"  Then  what  can  you  have  against  it  ?  Is 
it  that  you  think  she  will  grow  so  grand  that 
we  shall  see  no  more  of  her!  If  so,  it  shows 
how  much  you  know  of  our  Tiny.  Or  do  you 
think  him  too  high  and  mighty  to  be  honest 
and  true  ?  I  don't  profess  to  know  much 
about  it,"  continued  Ruth  scornfully,  being 
stung  to  eloquence  by  his  perversity,  "but 
I  should  have  said  an  honest  man  and  his 
love  might  be  found  in  a  castle,  sometimes, 
as  well  as  in  a  cottage  ! " 

"  '  Hearts  just  as  pure  and  fair  may  beat  in 
Belgrave  Square  as  in  the  lowly  air  of  Seven 
Dials,'  "   quoted   Erskine,   with   a  laugh.      "  I 


IN   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  179 

grant  all  that ;  but  if  you  want  to  know,  my 
point  is  that  Tiny  would  be  thrown  away  on 
Belgrave  Square !  She  is  far  too  funny  and 
fresh,  and  unlike  most  of  us,  to  thrive  in  that 
fine  soil ;  she  would  need  to  be  clipped  and 
pruned  and  trimmed  in  the  image  of  other 
people.  And  that  would  spoil  her.  What- 
ever else  she  may  be,  she's  more  or  less  orig- 
inal as  she  stands.  She's  not  a  copy  now; 
but  she  will  have  to  become  one  in  Belgrave 
Square." 

''  She  will  have  to  become  one  ! "  cried  Ruth, 
jumping  at  the  change  of  mood.  "Then  you 
think  that  Tiny  means  it,  too?" 

"  I  am  afraid  she  means  to  marry  him,"  said 
Erskine,  with  a  sigh.  *'  I  have  visions  of  our 
Tiny  ours  no  more,  but  my  Lady  Manister, 
and  Countess  Dromard  in  due  course." 

So  delighted  was  Ruth  with  his  opinion  on 
this  point  that  his  other  opinions  had  no 
power  to  annoy  her  ;  and  in  her  joy  she  told 
him  once  more,  and  with  much  impulsive  feel- 
ing, how  sorry  she  was  for  having  kept  him  in 
the  dark  so  willfully  and  so  long.  She  called 
him  an  angel  of  good  temper  and  forbear- 
ance, and  undertook  to  reward  his  generosity 
by  never  hiding  another  tiling  from  him  in  lier 


l8o  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

life.  And  she  would  never,  never  vex  him 
again,  she  said — so  earnestly  that  he  thought 
she  meant  it,  as  indeed  she  thought  herself, 
for  half  a  minute. 

"  But  you  mean  to  go  to  the  match  to- 
morrow ?  "  he  asked  her  wistfully. 

"  Oh,  we  must — if  it's  fine.  It's  the  last 
match  of  the  week  ;  besides,  Herbert's  going 
to  play." 

This  was  an  argument,  and  Erskine  said  no 
more.  The  chances  are  that  he  would  have 
said  no  more  in  any  case.  The  following 
afternoon  Ruth  drove  with  Tiny  to  the  match, 
and  with  a  particularly  light  heart,  because 
she  had  not  heard  another  word  against  the 
plan.  Her  one  remaining  anxiety  was  lest  it 
might  rain  before  they  got  to  the  cricket  field. 

For  the  day  was  one  of  those  dull  ones  of 
early  autumn  when  there  is  little  wind,  a  gray 
sky,  and  more  than  a  chance  of  rain  ;  but 
none  had  fallen  durinp-  the  mornino^,  whicli 
reduced  the  chance  ;  while  the  clouds  were 
high,  and  occasionally  parted  by  faint  rays  of 
sunsliine.  The  cfround  was  so  beautiful  in 
itself  that  it  was  the  greater  pity  there  was  no 
more  sun,  since,  without  it,  well-kept  turf  and 
tall  trees  are  like  a  sweet  face  saddened.    The 


IM   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  l8l 

trees  were  the  fine  elms  of  that  country,  and 
they  flanked  two  sides  of  the  ground  ;  but  one 
missed  their  shadows,  and  the  fohage  had  a 
dingy,  lack-luster  look  in  the  tame  light.  On 
the  third  side  a  ha-ha  formed  a  natural 
"  boundary,"  and  the  red,  spreading  house 
stood  aloof  on  the  fourth,  giving  a  touch  of 
welcome  warmth  to  i  picture  whose  highest 
lights  were  the  white  flannels  of  the  players 
and  the  canvas  tents.  The  tents  were  many, 
and  admirably  arranged  ;  but  one  beneath  the 
elms  had  a  side  on  the  ground  to  itself;  and 
thither  drove  Mrs.  Holland,  alighting  rather 
nervously  as  a  groom  came  promptly  to  the 
pony's  head,  because  this  was  the  ladies'  tent. 
To-day,  however,  the  tent  was  not  formi- 
dably full,  as  it  had  been  when  the  girls  had 
watched  the  cricket  from  it  earlier  in  the 
week ;  this  was  only  the  Saturday's  match. 
Ruth  looked  in  vain  for  Lady  Dromard,  but 
received  a  cold  greeting  from  her  daughter, 
Lady  Mary,  upon  whom  the  guinea  stamp 
was  disagreeably  fresh  and  sharp.  The  sight 
of  Mrs.  Willoughby  and  her  friend  Mrs. 
Foster-Simpson  on  a  front  sc;at  was  a  relief 
at  the  moment  (the  sight  of  anything  to  nod 
to  is  a  relief  sometimes)  ;  but  Ruth  was  dis- 


1 82  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

creet  enough  to  sit  down  behind  these  ladies, 
not  beside  them.  She  conoratulated  herself 
on  her  presence  of  mind  when  she  heard  the 
tone  and  character  of  some  of  their  comments 
on  the  game.  It  would  have  done  Ruth  no 
good  to  be  seen  at  the  side  of  loud  Mrs. 
Foster-Simpson  or  of  loquacious  Mrs.  Wil- 
loughby,  and  it  might  have  done  Tiny  grave 
harm.  Mrs.  Willoughby's  husband,  who  had 
good-naturedly  become  eleventh  man  at  the 
eleventh  hour,  was  conspicuous  in  the  field 
from  his  black  trousers,  clerical  wide-awake, 
and  shirt-sleeves  of  gray  flannel.  "  I  hope 
you  admire  him,"  said  his  wife  over  her 
shoulder  to  Ruth  ;  "  I  tell  him  he  might  as 
well  take  a  funeral  in  flannels  !" 

"  Or  dine  in  his  surplice,"  added  her  friend 
Mrs.  Foster-Simpson  in  a  voice  that  carried 
to  the  back  of  the  tent. 

"  I  just  do  admire  Mr.  Willoughby,"  Ruth 
said  softly;  "he  has  a  soul  above  appear- 
ances," 

"  You're  not  his  wife,"  replied  the  lady  who 
was. 

"You  may  thank  your  stars  !  "  shouted  her 
too  familiar  friend. 

Little  Mrs.  Holland  turned  to  her  sister  and 


IM   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  183 

Speculated  aloud  as  to  the  state  of  the  game, 
but  her  tone  was  an  example  to  the  ladies  in 
front,  who  nevertheless  did  not  lower  theirs  to 
supply  the  gratuitous  information  that  the 
Mundham  players  had  been  fielding  all  day. 

"  They're  getting  the  worst  of  it,"  declared 
Mrs.  Willoughby,  perhaps  prematurely. 

"  Do  them  good,"  her  friend  said  viciously, 
but  with  the  soft  pedal  down  for  once.  "  There 
would  have  been  no  holding  them.  That  young 
Dromard,  now — it  will  take  it  out  of  him.  He 
wants  it  takino^  out  of  him  !  " 

Mr.  Stanley  Dromard,  who  had  been  scoring 
heavily  all  the  week,  happened  to  be  in  the 
deep  field  close  to  the  tent.  Ruth  nudged  her 
sister,  and  they  moved  further  along  their 
row  in  order  to  avoid  the  bonnets  in  front. 

"  Horrid  people  !  "  whispered  Ruth. 

"That's  the  earl  by  the  canvas  screen," 
answered  Tiny.  "  I  should  like  to  send  him  a 
new  straw  hat ! " 

"  Hush  ! "  whispered  Ruth  in  terror. 
"  You're  as  bad  as  they  are.  Tell  me,  do  you 
see  Herbert  ? " 

"Yes,  there  he  is,  all  by  himself.  There's 
a  man  out." 

"  Is  there  ?     How  tired  they  seem  !     That's 


l84  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Lord  Manister  sprawling  on  the  grass.  What 
a  boy  he  looks  !  You  wouldn't  think  he  was 
anybody  in  particular,  would  you?" 

"  I  should  liope  not,  indeed,  on  the  cricket 
field  ! " 

"  I  only  meant  he  looked  rather  nice." 

"  Certainly  he  looks  nicer  in  flannels  than 
in  anything  else;  his  tailor  has  less  to  do  with  it." 

The  patience  of  Ruth  was  inexhaustible. 
She  watched  the  game  until  another  wicket 
fell.  Then  it  was  her  admiration  for  the  scene 
that  escaped  in  more  whispers. 

"  Is7it  it  a  lovely  place,  Tiny  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  all  that. 

"  I've  never  seen  one  to  touch  it,  and  I  have 
seen  two  or  three,  you  knovv^,  since  we  were 
married.  But  the  house  is  the  best  part  of  it 
all.  I  would  give  anything  to  live  in  a  house 
like  that — wouldn't  you  ?" 

"I?     My  immortal  soul!" 

And  Tiny  sighed,  but  Ruth,  looking  round 
quickly,  saw  laughter  in  her  eyes,  and  said  no 
more.  Tiny  was  very  trying.  Was  she  half 
in  earnest,  or  wholly  in  jest?  Ruth  could 
never  tell  ;  and  now,  while  she  wondered,  a 
ladv  who  knew  her  sat  down  on  her  rioht. 
Ruth  was   glad  enough   to   shake   hands  and 


IN   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  185 

talk,  and  not  sorr}'  in  this  case  to  be  seen 
doing  so,  while  at  the  moment  it  was  a  very 
human  pleasure  to  her  to  leave  Tiny  to  take 
care  of  herself.  And  that  was  a  thing  at 
which  Tiny  may  be  said  to  have  excelled,  so 
far  as  one  saw,  and  no  farther.  The  attacks 
of  most  tongues  she  was  capable  of  repelling 
with  distinction  ;  against  those  of  her  own 
thouofhts  she  made  ever  the  feeblest  resist- 
ance  ;  and  at  this  stage  of  Christina's  career 
her  own  thoughts  were  a  swarm  of  flies  upon 
a  wound  in  her  heart.  That  was  the  truth — 
and  no  one  suspected  it. 

During  the' next  quarter  of  an  hour  the  in- 
nings came  to  an  end,  and  the  fielders  trooped 
over  to  the  group  of  tents  at  another  side  of  the 
ground.  Tiny  hoped  that  one  of  them  would 
have  the  good  taste  to  come  to  the  ladies' tent 
and  talk  to  her  ;  an  Eton  boy  would  do  very 
well  ;  tierbert  would  be  better  than  nobody: 
but  she  hoped  in  vain.  On  her  right  Ruth 
had  turned  her  back,  and  was  quite  taken  up 
with  the  lady  with  whom  she  was  not  sorry 
to  be  seen  in  conversation.  The  chairs  on 
her  left  were  all  empty ;  and  those  flies  were 
fighting  for  her  heart.  It  was  the  rustle  of 
silk  disturbed  them  in  the    end  ;    and    Lady 


1 86  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Dromard  who  sat  down  in  the  empty  chair 
on  Tiny's  left. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  both,"  said  the 
countess  as  though  she  meant  it ;  and  she 
leant  over  to  shake  hands  with  Ruth,  whose 
back  was  now  turned  upon  her  new  found 
friend.  Not  so  much  was  said  to  the  pair  in 
front,  though  those  ladies  had  something  to 
say  for  themselves.  Lady  Dromard  gave 
them  very  small  change  in  smiles,  but  made 
the  conversation  general  for  a  minute  or 
two,  with  that  graceful  tact  at  which,  perhaps, 
she  was,  in  a  manner,  a  professional.  With 
equal  facility  she  dropped  them  from  her  talk 
one  after  another,  much  as  the  last  wickets 
had  fallen  in  the  match,  and  until  only  Tiny 
was  left  in.  For  the  countess  had  come 
there  expressly  to  talk  to  Miss  Luttrell,  as 
she  herself  stated  with    charming  directness. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  were  feeling  dull ;  though 
really  you  deserve  to,  Miss  Luttrell." 

"I  was,"  said  Tiny  honestly;  "but  I  don't 
know  what  I  have  done  to  deserve  to,  Lady 
Dromard." 

"  It's  the  last  match,  and  a  poor  one,  which 
nobody  cares  anything  about.  You  should 
have  come  earlier  in  the  week." 


IN   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  1 87 

"We  were  here  on  Wednesday  afternoon." 

"But  why  not  oftener?  My  second  son 
made  ninety-three  on  Thursday.  I  do  wish 
you  had  seen  that ! " 

"  It  wasn't  my  fault  that  I  didn't,"  remarked 
Miss  Luttrell.  "  I  suppose  things  came  in 
the  way." 

"  Then  you  are  a  cricketer  !"  exclaimed  the 
countess.  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  for  I  am  a 
great  cricketer  myself.  No,  I  don't  play,  Miss 
Luttrell ;  only  I  know  all  about  it." 

Christina  candidly  confessed  that  she  was 
not  a  cricketer  in  any  sense — that,  in  fact,  she 
knew  very  little  about  cricket  ;  and  the  count- 
ess, who  considered  how  many  girls  would 
have  pretended  to  know  much,  was  more 
pleased  with  this  answer  than  she  would  have 
been  with  an  exhibition  of  real  knowledge  of 
the  game. 

"  My  only  interest  in  this  match,  however," 
explained  Lady  Dromard,  "  is  in  my  eldest 
son.  I  do  so  want  him  to  make  runs  !  He 
has  been  dreadfully  unsuccessful  all  the  week." 

Christina  was  discreetly  sympathetic. 

"  He  is  going  in  first,"  murmured  the 
countess  presently  in  suppressed  excitement. 
"  We  must  watch  the  match." 


1 88  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

So  they  sat  without  speaking  during  the 
first  few  overs,  and  the  silence  did  much  for 
Christina,  by  putting  her  at  her  ease  in  the 
hour  when  she  needed  all  the  ease  at  her 
command.  Cool  as  she  was  outwardly,  in  her 
heart  she  was  not  a  little  afraid  of  Lady 
Dromard,  whose  manner  toward  herself 
had  already  struck  her  as  rather  too  kind  and 
much  too  scrutinizing.  She  now  entertained 
a  perfectly  private  conviction  that  Lady 
Dromard  either  knevv^  somethinor  about  her 
or  had  her  suspicions.  Not  that  this  made 
Christina  particularly  uncomfortable  at  the 
moment.  The  countess  had  eyes  and  wits  for 
the  game  only,  following  it  intently  through  a 
heavy  field  glass  grown  light  now  that  Manis- 
ter  was  battinor. 

It  was  difficult  to  realize  that  this  easier, 
animated  woman  was  the  mother  of  the  young 
fellow  at  the  wicket,  she  looked  so  very 
little  older  than  her  son  ;  or  so  it  seemed  to 
Tiny,  who  now  had  ample  opportunity  to 
study  not  only  her  face  and  figure,  but  her 
quiet,  hanclsoine  bonnet  and  faultless  dress. 
Even  Tiny  could  not  help  admiring  Lady 
Dromard.  Suddenly,  however,  the  hand  that 
held  the  field-glass  was  allowed  to  drop,  and 


IN   THE  LADIES'   TENT.  189 

the  fine  face  flushed  with  disappointment  as 
a  round  of  applause  burst  from  the  field  and 
found  no  echo  in  the  tents. 

"  Manister  is  out !  "  exclaimed  the  countess. 
"  He  has  only  made  two  or  three  ! " 

"  How  fond  she  is  of  him,"  thought  the 
girl,  still  watching  her  companion's  face,  which 
somehow  softened  Christina  toward  both 
mother  and  son  ;  so  that  now  it  was  with  real 
sympathy  that  she  remarked,  "  Poor  Lord 
Manister  !  I  am  very  sorry." 

Some  expressions  of  condolence  from  the 
seats  in  front  threw  the  young  girl's  words 
into  advantageous  relief. 

The  countess  said  presently  to  Christina, 
"  I  am  sorry  it  has  turned  out  so  dull  a  day  ; 
the  ground  looks  really  nice  when  it  is  fine 
and  sunny." 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  ground,"  answered  Tiny 
simply  ;  "the  trees  are  so  splendid." 

"Ah,  but  you're  used  to  splendid  trees." 

"In  Australia?  Well,  we  are  and  we  are 
not,  Lady  Dromard.  I  mean  to  say,  there 
are  tremendous  trees  in  some  parts ;  in  others 
there  are  none  at  all,  you  know.  Up  the 
bush,  where  we  used  to  live,  the  trees  were  of 
very  little  account." 


ipo  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  I  thought  the  bush  was  nothing-  ^uf 
trees,"  remarked  Lady  Dromard  ;  and  Chris- 
tina could  not  help  smiling  as  she  explained 
the  comprehensive  character  of  "the  bush." 

"  So  you  were  actually  brought  up  on  a 
sheep  farm  !  "  said  Lady  Dromard,  looking 
flatteringly  at  the  graceful  young  girl. 

"Yes — on  a  station.  It  was  in  the  bush, 
and  very  much  the  bush,"  laughed  Tiny,  "for 
we  were  hundreds  of  miles  up  country.  But 
most  of  the  trees  v/ere  no  higher  than  this 
tent,  Lady  Dromard.  The  homestead  was  in 
a  clump  of  pines,  and  they  were  pretty  tall, 
but  the  rest  were  mere  scrub." 

"  Then  how  in  the  world,"  cried  her  lady- 
ship, "did  you  manage  to  become  educated? 
What  school  could  you  go  to  in  a  place  like 
that?" 

"We  never  went  to  school  at  all,"  Tiny 
informed  her  confidentially.  "  We  had  a 
governess." 

"Ah,  and  she  taught  you  to  sing  !  I  should 
like  to  meet  that  governess.  She  must  be  a 
very  clever  person." 

Herladyship's  manner  was  delightfully  blunt. 

"Now,  Lady  Dromard,  you're  laughing  at 
me!     I  know  nothing — I  have  read  nothincr." 


m  THE  LADIES'    TE.VT.  191 

"I  rejoice  to  hear  it!"  cried  the  countess 
cordially.  "  I  assure  you,  Miss  Luttrell,  that's 
a  most  refreshing  confession  in  these  days. 
Only  it's  too  good  to  be  true.  I  don't  believe 
you,  you  know." 

Christina  made  no  Qrreat  effort  to  establish 
the  truth  of  her  statement ;  for  some  minutes 
longer  they  watched  the  game. 

But  the  countess  was  not  interested,  though 
her  younger  son  had  gone  in,  and  had  already 
begun  to  score.  "  What  were  they  ?  "  she  said 
at  length  with  extreme  obscurity  ;  but  Chris- 
tina was  polite  enough  not  to  ask  her  what 
she  meant  until  she  had  put  this  question  to 
herself,  and  while  she  still  hesitated  Lady 
Dromard  recollected  herself,  appreciated  the 
hesitation,  and  explained.  "  I  mean  the  trees 
in  the  bush,  at  your  farm.  Were  they  gum 
trees  ?" 

''  Very  few  of  them — there  are  hardly  any 
gum  trees  up  there." 

"  Do  you  know  that  /  have  a  young  gum 
tree?"  said  Lady  Dromard  amusingly,  as 
though  it  were  a  young  opossum. 

''No!"  said  Tiny  incredulously. 

"  But  I  have,  in  the  conservatory ;  you  might 
have  seen  it  the  other  evening." 


192  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"How  I  wish  I  had!"  * 

The  young  girl's  face  wore  a  flush  of  genu- 
ine animation.  Lady  Dromard  regarded  it 
for  a  moment,  and  admired  it  very  much  ;  then 
she  bent  forward  and  touched  Ruth  on  the 
arm. 

"  Mrs.  Holland,  will  you  trust  your  sister  to 
me  for  half  an  hour?  I  want  to  show  her 
something  that  will  interest  her  more  than  the 
cricket." 

"Oh,  Lady  Dromard,  I  can't  think  of 
taking  you  away  from  the  match,"  cried  Chris- 
tina, while  Ruth's  eyes  danced,  and  the  bon- 
nets in  front  turned  round. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Luttrell,  it  will  interest  7ne 
more,  now  that  Lord  Manister  is  out." 

"  But  there's  Mr.  Dromard." 

"Oh,  that  boy!  He  has  made  more  runs 
this  week  than  are  good  for  him.  Miss  Lut- 
trell, am  I  to  go  alone  ?" 

The  bonnets  in  front  knocked  together. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ORDEAL      BY     BATTLE. 

If  Tiny  Luttrell  suffered  at  all  from  self-^ 
consciousness  as  she  followed  Lady  Dromard 
from  the  tent,  she  hid  it  uncommonly  well. 
Her  color  did  not  change,  while  her  expres- 
sion was  neither  bashful  nor  bold,  and  unnat- 
ural only  in  its  entire  naturalness.  Considering 
that  the  conversation  in  the  ladies'  tent  under- 
went a  momentary  lull,  by  no  means  so  slight 
as  to  escape  a  sensitive  ear,  the  girl's  serene 
bearing  at  the  countess'  skirts  was  in  its  way 
an  achievement  of  which  no  one  thoug-ht  more 
highly  than  Lady  Dromard  herself.  Christina 
had  not  merely  imagined  that  she  was  being 
systematically  watched.  No  sooner  were  they 
in  the  open  air  than  the  countess  wheeled 
abruptly,  expecting  to  surprise  some  slight 
embarrassment,  not  unpardonable  in  so  young 
a  face ;  and  this  was  not  the  only  occasion  on 
which  she  was  agreeably  disappointed  in  little 
Miss   Luttrell.      The  short  cut  to  the  house 

193 


1 94  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

was  a  narrow  path  that  crossed  an  intervening 
paddock.  They  followed  this  path.  But  now 
Lady  Dromard  walked  behind,  with  eyes 
slightly  narrowed  ;  and  still  she  approved. 

Presently  they  reached  the  conservatory. 
It  was  large  and  lofty,  and  the  smooth  white 
flags  and  spreading  fronds  gave  it  an  appear- 
ance of  coolness  and  quiet  very  different  from 
Christina's  recollection  of  the  place  on  the 
night  of  the  dance,  when  Chinese  lanterns  had 
shone  and  smoked  and  smelt  among  the  foli- 
age, and  a  frivolous  hum  had  filled  the  air. 
The  gum  tree  proved  to  be  a  sapling  of  no 
great  promise  or  pretensions.  Nor  was  it 
seen  to  advantage,  being  planted  in  the  cen- 
tral bed,  in  the  midst  of  some  admirable  palms 
and  tree-ferns.  But  Tiny  made  a  long  arm 
to  seize  the  leaves  and  pull  them  to  her  nos- 
trils, settinof  foot  on  the  soft  soil  in  her  excite- 
ment  ;  and  when  she  started  back,  with  an 
apology  for  the  mark,  her   face  was   beaming. 

"  But  that  was  a  real  whiff  of  Australia," 
she  added  gratefully — "the  first  I've  had 
since  I  sailed.  It  was  very,  very  good  of  you 
to  bring  me,  Lady  Dromard.  If  you  knew 
how  it  reminds  me  !  " 

"  I  thought  it  would  interest  you,"  remarked 


ORDEAL   BY  BATTLE.  195 

Lady  Dromard,  who  was  herself  more  inter- 
ested in  the  footprint  on  the  soil,  which  was 
absurdly  small.  "  If  you  like  I  will  show  you 
something  that  should  remind  you  still  more." 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  like  to  see  anything  Aus- 
tralian ;  but  I  am  sure  I  am  troubling  you  a 
great  deal,  Lady  Dromard  !  " 

*'  Not  in  the  least,  my  dear  Miss  Luttrell. 
I  have  something  extremely  Australian  to 
show  you  now." 

Countess  Dromard  led  the  way  through  the 
room  in  which  Tiny  had  danced.  It  w^as  still 
carpetless  and  empty,  and  the  clatter  of  her 
walking  shoes  on  the  floor  which  her  ball  slip- 
pers had  skimmed  so  noiselessly  struck  a  note 
that  jarred.  The  desire  came  over  Tiny  to 
turn  back.  As  they  passed  through  the  hall, 
a  side  door  stood  open  ;  the  girl  saw  it  with  a 
gasp  for  the  open  air.  It  was  an  odd  sensa- 
tion, as  of  the  march  into  prison.  It  made  her 
lag  while  it  lasted  ;  when  it  passed  it  was  as 
thouo-h  weights  had  been  removed  from  her 
feet.  She  ran  lightly  up  the  shallow  stairs  ; 
Lady  Dromard  was  waiting  on  the  landing, 
and  led  her  aloncr  a  corridor. 

Here  Tiny  forgot  that  her  feet  had  drummed 
vague  misgivings  into  her  mind  ;  she  could  no 


196  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

longer  hear  her  own  steps  the  corridor  was  so 
thickly  carpeted.  It  was  a  special  corridor, 
leading  to  a  very  special  room  of  delicate  tints 
and  dainty  furniture,  and  Christina  was  so  far 
herself  again  as  to  enter  without  a  qualm. 
But  her  qualms  had  been  a  rather  singular 
thin  Of. 

"  This  is  my  own  little  chapel  of  ease,  Miss 
Luttrell,"  the  countess  explained  ;  "  and  now 
do  you  not  see  a  fellow-countryman  ?  " 

She  pointed  to  the  window  ;  and  in  front  of 
the  window  was  a  pedestal  supporting  a  gilded 
cage,  and  in  the  cage  a  pink-and-gray  parrot, 
of  a  kind  with  which  the  girl  had  been  familiar 
from  her  infancy.  ''  Oh,  you  beauty  !  "  cried 
Christina,  going  to  the  cage  and  scratching 
the  bird's  head  through  the  wires,  "  It's  a 
galar,"  she  added. 

"  Indeed,"  said  Lady  Dromard,  watching 
her;  "  a  galar  !  I  must  remember  that.  By 
the  way,  can  3'ou  tell  me  why  he  doesn't  talk  ?  " 

Christina  answered,  in  asHghtly  preoccupied 
manner,  that  galars  very  seldom  did.  She  had 
become  quite  absorbed  in  the  bird  ;  she 
seemed  easily  pleased.  She  went  the  length 
of  asking  whether  she  might  take  him  out, 
and  received  a  hesitating  permission  to  do  so 


ORDEAL   BY  BATTLE.  197 

at  her  own  risk,  Lady  Dromard  confessing 
that  for  her  own  part  she  was  quite  afraid  to 
touch  him  through  the  wires.  In  a  twinkling 
the  ofirl  had  the  bird  in  her  hand,  and  was 
smoothing  its  feathers  with  her  chin.  The 
sun  was  beginning  to  struggle  through  the 
clouds  ;  the  window  faced  the  west ;  and  the 
faint  rays,  falling  on  the  young  girl's  face  and 
the  bird's  bright  plumage,  threw  a  good  light 
on  a  charming  picture.  Lady  Dromard  was 
reminded  of  the  artificial  art  of  her  young 
days,  when  this  was  a  favorite  posture,  and 
searched  narrowly  for  artifice  in  her  guest. 
Finding  none  she  admired  more  keenly  than 
before,  but  became  also  more  timid  on  the 
other's  account,  so  that  she  could  fancy  the 
blood  sliding  down  the  fair  skin  which  the 
beak  actually  touched. 

"  Dear  Miss  Luttrell,  do  put  him  back  !  I 
tremble  for  you." 

Tiny  put  the  quiet  thing  back  on  the  perch. 
Then  she  turned  to  Lady  Dromard  with  rather 
a  comic  expression. 

"Do  you  know  what  we  used  to  do  with 
this  gentleman  up  on  the  station  ?"  said  Tiny 
shamefacedly.  "  We  poisoned  him  wholesale 
to  save  our  crop.     But  this  one  seems  like  an 


198  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

old  friend  to  me.  Lady  Dromard,  you  have 
taken  me  back  to  the  bush  this  afternoon  ! " 

"So  it  appears,"  observed  the  countess 
dryly,  "or  I  think  you  would  admire  my  little 
view.  That's  Gallovv  Hill,  and  I'm  rather 
proud  of  my  view  of  it,  because  it  is  the  only 
hill  of  any  sort  in  these  parts.  Then  the  sun 
sets  behind  it,  and  those  three  trees  stand 
out  so." 

"Ah!  I  have  often  wanted  to  climb  up  to 
those  three  trees,"  said  Tiny,  who  took  a  tan- 
talized interest  in  Gallow  Hill ;  "  but  I  mayn't, 
because  I'm  in  England,  where  trespassers 
will  be  prosecuted." 

For  a  moment  Lady  Dromard  stared.  Then 
she  saw  that  Christina  had  merely  forgotten. 
"Dear  me,  that  stupid  notice  board!"  ex- 
claimed the  countess.  "  Lord  Dromard  never 
meant  it  to  apply  to  everybody.  Next  time 
you  come  here  come  over  Gallow  Hill,  and 
through  the  little  green  gate  you  can  just  see. 
You  will  find  it  a  quarter  of  the  distance." 

Christina  had  indeed  spoken  without  think- 
ing of  Gallow  Hill  as  a  part  of  the  estate,  or  of 
the  warning  to  trespassers  as  Lord  Dromard's 
doing.  Now  she  apologized,  and  was  natu- 
rally a  little  confused;  but  this  time  the  count- 


ORDEAL  BY  BATTLE.  199 

ess  would  not  have  had  her  otherwise.  "You 
shall  go  back  that  way  this  very  evening,"  she 
said  kindly,  "  and  I  promise  you  shan't  be  pros- 
ecuted." But  Christina  had  to  pet  her  fellow- 
countryman  for  a  minute  or  two  before  she 
quite  regained  her  ease,  while  her  ladyship 
touched  the  bell  and  ordered  tea. 

"How  fond  you  must  be  of  the  bush!" 
Lady  Dromard  exclaimed  as  the  girl  still 
lingered  by  the  cage. 

"  I  like  it  very  much,"  said  Christina 
soberly. 

"  Better  than  Melbourne?" 

"  Oh,  infinitely." 

"And  England?" 

"  Yes,  better  than  England — I  can't  help  it," 
Tiny  added  apologetically. 

"There's  no  reason  why  you  should,"  said 
Lady  Dromard,  with  a  smile.  "  I  could  im- 
agine your  quite  disliking  England  after  Aus- 
tralia. I'm  sure  my  son  disliked  it  when  he 
first  came  back." 

"  Did  he  ? "  the  girl  said  indifferently.  "  Ah, 
well !  I  don't  dislike  England.  I  admire  it  very 
much,  and,  of  course,  it  is  ever  so  much  better 
than  Australia  in  every  way.  We  have  no  vil- 
lages like  Essingham  out  there,  no  red  tiles  and 


200  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

old  churches,  and  certainly  no  villagers  who 
treat  you  like  a  queen  on  wheels  when  you  walk 
down  the  street.  We've  nothing  of  that  sort — 
nor  of  this  sort  either — no  splendid  old  houses 
and  beautiful  old  grounds  !  But  I  can't  help 
it,  I'd  rather  live  out  there.  Give  me  the 
bush!" 

"  You  are  enthusiastic  about  the  bush,"  said 
Lady  Dromard,  laughing  ;  "  yet  you  don't 
know  how  fresh  enthusiasm  is  to  one  now- 
adays." 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  not  enthusiastic  about  any- 
thing else,  then,"  answered  Christina  with 
engaging  candor.  *'  They  tell  me  I  don't  half 
appreciate  England;  I  disappoint  all  my 
friends  here." 

"  Ah,  that  is  perhaps  your  little  joke  at  our 
expense !  " 

Christina  was  on  the  brink  of  an  audacious 
reply  when  a  footman  entered  with  the  tea 
tray.  That  took  some  of  the  audacity  out  of 
her.  She  had  not  heard  the  order  given. 
Once  more  she  reflected  where  she  was,  and 
with  whom,  and  once  more  she  wished  herself 
elsewhere.  It  was  a  mild  return  of  her  panic 
downstairs.  Now  she  felt  vaguely  apprehen- 
sive and  as  vaguely  exultant.     In  the  uncer- 


ORDEAL  BY  BATTLE.  201 

tain  fusion  of  her  feelings  she  was  apt  to 
become  a  Httle  unguarded  in  what  she  said  ; 
there  was  safety  in  her  sense  of  this  tendency, 
however. 

Lady  Dromard  was  reflecting  also.  As  the 
footman  withdrew  she  had  told  him  not  to 
shut  the  door.  The  truth  was  she  had  got 
Christina  to  herself  by  pure  design,  though 
she  had  not  originally  intended  to  get  her  to 
herself  up  here.  That  had  been  an  inspiration 
of  the  moment,  and  even  now  Lady  Dromard 
was  by  no  means  sure  of  its  wisdom.  She  had 
gone  so  far  as  to  closet  herself  with  this  girl, 
but  she  did  not  wish  the  proceeding  to  appear 
so  pronounced  either  to  the  footman  or  to  the 
girl  herself.  It  would  make  the  footman  talk, 
while  it  might  frighten  the  girl.  That,  at  any 
rate,  was  the  idea  of  Countess  Dromard,  who, 
however,  had  not  yet  learnt  her  way  about  the 
young  mind  with  which  she  was  dealing. 

The  tea  tray  had  been  placed  on  a  small 
table  near  the  window.  Lady  Dromard 
promptly  settled  herself  with  her  back  to  the 
light,  and  motioned  Christina  to  a  chair  facing 
her. 

"  Now  you'll  be  able  to  watch  your  beloved 
bird,"  said  her  ladyship  craftily.      "  I  thought 


202  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

we  miofht  as  well  have  tea  now  we  are  here.  I 
thought  it  would  be  so  much  more  comfortable 
than  having  it  in  the  tent." 

Tiny  settled  a  business  matter  by  stating 
that  she  took  two  pieces  of  sugar,  but  only 
one  spot  of  cream.  Unconsciously,  however, 
she  had  followed  Lady  Dromard's  advice,  for 
her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  parrot  in  the 
cage. 

"  I  have  only  had  him  a  few  months," 
observed  the  countess  suggestively.  "  Some- 
thing less  than  a  year,  I  should  say." 

"Yes?"  And  Tiny  lowered  her  eyes 
politely  to  her  hostess'  face. 

"Yes,"  repeated  Lady  Dromard  affirma- 
tively. "  My  son  brought  him  home  for  n\e. 
It  was  the  only  present  he  had  time  to  get, 
so  I  rather  value  it." 

The  girl's  gaze  returned  involuntarily  to 
the  bird  she  had  caressed  ;  apparently  her 
interest  was  neither  diminished  nor  increased 
by  this  information  as  to  its  origin. 

"  He  was  in  a  great  hurry  to  run  away  from 
us,  was  he  not.'*"  she  remarked  inoffensively  ; 
but  there  was  no  attempt  in  her  m.anner  to 
conceal  the  fact  that  Christina  knew  what  she 
was  talking  about. 


ORDEAL   BY  BATTLE.  203 

■"  He  was  obliged  to  return  rather  suddenly," 
said  the  countess  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 
She  made  a  longer  pause  before  slyly  adding, 
"  I  consider  myself  very  lucky  to  have  got 
him  back  at  all." 

"  How  is  that,  Lady  Dromard?" 

And  Christina  outstared  the  countess,  so 
that  she  was  asked  whether  she  would  not 
take  another  cup  of  tea.  She  would,  and  her 
hand  neither  rattled  it  empty  nor  spilt  it  full. 
Then  Lady  Dromard  smiled  at  the  coronet 
on  her  teaspoon,  and  said  to  it : 

"  The  fact  is  I  was  terrified  lest  he  should 
go  and  marry  one  of  you." 

"One  of  ?^^.?" 

"  Some  fascinating  Australian  beauty,"  said 
Lady  Dromard  hastily.  "  So  many  aids-de- 
camp have  done  that." 

"  Poor — young — men  !  "  said  Tiny,  as  slowly 
and  solemnly  as  though  her  words  were  going 
to  the  young  men's  funeral.  "  It  would  have 
been  a  calamity  indeed." 

So  far  from  showing  indignation  Lady 
Dromard  leant  forward  in  her  chair  to  say  in 
her  most  winning  manner  : 

"  I  sliould  have  been  all  the  more  terrified 
had  I  known  j)/^z^,  Miss  Luttrell  !" 


204  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Clearly  this  was  meant  for  one  of  those 
blunt  effective  compliments  to  which  Lady 
Dromard  had  the  peculiar  knack  of  imparting 
delicacy  and  grace.  But  the  words  were  no 
sooner  uttered  than  she  saw  their  double 
meaning,  and  grimly  awaited  the  obvious  mis- 
construction. Tiny,  however,  had  a  quick 
perception,  and  plenty  of  common  sense  in 
little  things.  Instead  of  a  snub  the  countess 
received  a  good-tempered  smile,  for  which  she 
could  not  help  feeling  grateful  at  the  time  ; 
but  now  her  instinct  told  her  that  she  was 
dealing  with  a  person  with  whom  it  might  be 
well  to  be  a  little  more  downright,  and  she 
obeyed  her  instinct  without  further  delay. 

"■  Miss  Luttrell,  I  am  sure  there  is  no  occa- 
sion for  me  to  beat  about  the  bush — with  you," 
she  betran  in  an  altered,  but  a  no  less  flattering 
tone  ;  "  I  see  that  one  is  quite  safe  in  being 
frank  with  you.  The  fact  is — and  you  know 
it — my  son  very  nearly  did  marry  someone 
out  there.  Now  you  met  him  out  there  in 
society,  and  you  probably  knew  everyone 
there  who  was  worth  knowing,  so  pray  don't 
pretend  that  you  know  nothing  about  this." 

Their  eyes  were  joined,  but  at  the  moment 
Christina's  was  the  cooler  qlance. 


ORDEAL  BY  BATTLE.  205 

"  I  couldn't  pretend  that,  Lady  Dromard, 
for  it  happens  that  I  know  all  about  it." 

The  countess  was  perceptibly  startled. 
"  The  girl  was  a  friend  of  yours  ?  "she  inquired 
quickly. 

"  A  great  friend,"  answered  Tiny,  nodding. 

"  How  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  her  name  !" 

"  I  mustn't' do  that."  This  was  said  decid- 
edly. "  But  it  seems  a  strange  thing  that  you 
don't  know  it." 

"  It  is  a  strange  thing,"  Lady  Dromard 
allowed  ;  "  nevertheless  it's  the  truth.  I  never 
heard  her  name.  You  may  imagine  my 
curiosity.  Miss  Luttrell,  I  seem  to  have  felt 
ever  since  I  met  you  that  you  knew  some- 
thing about  this  —  that  you  could  tell  one 
somethinor.  And  I  don't  mind  confessinp-  to 
you  now  —  since  I  see  3^ou  are  not  the  one  to 
misunderstand  me  willfully  —  that  I  have  pur- 
posely sought  an  opportunity  of  sounding  you 
on  the  subject." 

Christina  smiled,  for  this  was  not  news  to 
her. 

"  My  son  will  tell  me  nothing,"  continued 
Lady  Dromard,  "  and  I  have,  of  course,  the 
greatest  curiosity  to  know  everything.  It  is 
no  idle  curiosity,   Miss   Luttrell.      I   am  his 


2o6  ,  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

mother,  and  he  has  never  got  over  that  attach- 
ment." 

"  Has  he  not  ?"  said  Tiny  with  dry  satire. 

"  He  has  never  got  over  it,"  repeated  Lady 
Dromard  in  a  tone  which  was  a  match  for  the 
other.      "  Has  the  girl  ?  " 

Tiny  v/as  startled  in  her  turn.  She  hesi- 
tated before  replying,  and  seemed  to  waver 
over  the  nature  of  her  reply.  It  \vas  the  first 
sign  she  had  shown  of  w^avering  at  all,  and 
Lady  Dromard  drew  her  breath.  The  girl 
was  hanging  her  head,  and  murmuring  that 
she  really  could  not  answer  for  the  other  girl. 
Suddenly  she  flung  up  her  face,  and  it  was 
hot,  but  not  hotter  than  her  words  : 

"  Yes,  Lady  Dromard,  you  are  his  mother. 
But  the  girl  was  my  friend.  He  treated  her 
abominably  !  " 

"  It  wasn't  his  fault — it  was  mine,"  said 
Lady  Dromard  steadily. 

"  I'm  afraid  that  does  not  make  one  think 
any  better  of  him,"  murmured  the  young  girl. 
Ller  chin  was  resting  in  her  hand.  The  flush 
had  passed  from  her  face  as  suddenly  as  it 
had  come.  Her  eyes  were  raised  to  the  sky 
out  of  the  window,  and  there  was  in  them  the 
sad,  hardened,  reckless  look   that   those  who 


ORDEAL  BY  BATTLE.  207 

knew  her  best  had  seen  too  often,  latterly,  in 
her  silent  moments.  The  sun  was  dropping 
clear  of  the  clouds,  and  the  brighter  rays  fell 
kindly  over  Tiny's  dark  hair  and  pale,  piquant 
face.  The  keen  eye  that  was  on  her  had 
never  watched  more  closely  nor  admired  so 
much. 

"  Consider  !  "  said  Lady  Dromard  presently, 
and  rather  gently.  "  Try  to  put  yourself  in 
our  place — and  consider.  We  have  a  position, 
here  in  England,  of  which  very  few  people  can 
be  got  to  take  a  sensible  view ;  half  the 
country  professes  an  absurd  contempt  for  it, 
while  the  other  half  speaks  of  it  and  of  us 
with  bated  breath.  We  ourselves  naturally 
think  something  of  our  position,  and  we  try, 
as  we  say,  to  keep  it  up.  Of  course  we  are 
worldly,  in  the  popular  sense.  We  bring  up 
our  children  with  worldly  ideas.  They  must 
make  worldly  marriages  in  their  own  station. 
Is  it  so  very  contemptible  that  we  should  see 
to  this,  and  dread  beyond  most  things  an 
unwise  or  an  unequal  marriage?  Nov/  do 
consider  :  we  let  our  son  go  out  to  Australia, 
because  it  is  good  for  a  young  man  to  see  the 
world  before  he  marries  and  settles  down — 
and  mind  !  that  was  what  he  was  about  to  do. 


208  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

If  he  had  not  gone  to  Australia  then,  he  would 
have  been  married  at  once.  He  was  all  but 
engaged.  It  was  a  case  of  putting  off  the 
engagement  instead  of  the  marriage.  We  do 
not  believe  in  long,  formal  engagements  ;  we 
do  not  permit  them.  We  find  them  undesira- 
ble for  many  reasons.  So,  you  see,  he  goes 
out  to  Australia  as  good  as  engaged,  but 
unable  to  say  so,  and  very  young,  and  no 
doubt  very  susceptible.  Can  you  wonder  that 
I  tremble  for  him  when  he  has  gone  ?  Well, 
he  is  the  best  son  in  the  world,  and  has  told 
me  everything  always.  That  is  my  comfort. 
But  presently  he  tells  one  things  in  his  letters 
which  make  one  tremble  more  than  ever, 
though  he  tells  them  jokingly.  Then  a 
cousin  of  Lord  Dromard's  stays  a  day  or  two 
in  Melbourne  and  comes  home  with  a 
report " 

Christina's  face  twitched  in  the  sunlight. 
"  I  suppose  that  was  Captain  Dromard?"  she 
said  quietly  ;  "  I  never  met  him,  but  I  saw 
him."  She  seemed  to  see  him  then,  and  that 
was  why  her  face  twitched.  She  was  still 
staring  out  of  the  window  at  the  yellowing 
sky. 

"  Captain  Dromard  had  forgotten  the  girl's 


ORDEAL  BY  BATTLE.  209 


name,"  said  the  countess  pointedly;  "but 
he  told  me  enough  to  make  me  write  to  my 
boy — I    nearly  cabled  !     And  do  you  think  I 


was  wrong  ? " 


"  Not  from  your  point  of  view,  Lady  Dro- 
mard,"  answered  Christina  judicially,  with  her 
eyes  half  closed  in  the  slanting  sunbeams 
which  she  chose  to  face.  "  Certainly  you  can- 
not have  had  very  much  faith  in  Lord  Manis- 
ter's  judgment  ;  but  the  case  is  altered  if  he 
was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  engaged  to  a 
girl  in  England  ;  and,  at  all  events,  that's  the 
worst  that  could  be  said  of  you — looking  at  it 
from  your  own  point  of  view.  But  is  not  the 
girl  out  there  entitled  to  a  point  of  view  as 
well  ?  "  And  the  hardened  reckless  eyes  were 
turned  so  suddenly  upon  Lady  Dromard  that 
the  youth  and  grace  and  bitterness  of  the  girl 
smote  her  straight  to  the  heart. 

There  was  a  slight  tremor  and  great  ten- 
derness in  the  voice  that  whispered,  "  Did  she 
feel  it  very  much  ?  Come,  come — don't  tell 
me  it  broke  her  heart !  " 

"  No,  I  won't  tell  you  that,"  said  the  girl 
briskly,  but  with  a  laugh  which  hurt.  "  That 
doesn't  break  so  easily  in  these  days.  No,  it 
didn't  break  her  heart,  Lady  Dromard — it  did 


2IO  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

much  worse.  It  got  her  talked  about.  It 
poisoned  her  mind,  it  killed  her  faith,  it  spoilt 
her  temper.  It  did  all  that — and  one  thing 
worse  still.  Though  it  didn't  break  her  heart. 
Lady  Dromard,  it  cracked  it,  so  that  it  will 
never  ring  true  any  more  ;  it  made  her  hate 
those  she  had  loved — those  who  loved  her ;  it 
made  it  impossible  for  her  ever  to  care  for 
anybody  in  the  whole  wide  world  again  !  " 

Lady  Dromard  had  drawn  her  chair  nearer 
to  the  girl,  and  nearer  still.  Lady  Dromard 
was  no  longer  mistress  of  herself. 

"  Did  it  make  her  hate  7^2^  my  dear  ?" 

"  It  made  her  loathe — me." 

Lady  Dromard  was  seen  to  battle  with  a 
strong  womanly  impulse,  and  to  lose.  Her 
fine  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Her  soft,  white 
hands  flew  out  to  Christina's,  and  drew  them 
to  her  bosom.  At  this  moment  a  young  man 
in  flannels  appeared  at  the  door,  and  the  young 
man  was  Lord  Manister  ;  but  the  rich  carpet 
had  muffled  his  tread,  and  the  two  women  had 
eyes  for  one  another  only — the  girl  he  had 
loved — the  mother  who  had  drawn  him  from 
her.  The  same  sunbeam  washed  them 
both. 

"  Now  I  icnow  her  name — now  I  know  it !  " 


ORDEAL   BY  BATTLE.  2II 

"  I  think  you  cannot  have  found  it  out  this 
minute,  Lady  Dromard." 

"  But  I  have.  I  have  never  known  whether 
to  believe  it  or  not,  since  it  first  crossed  my 
mind,  the  night  you  dined  here.  You  see,  I 
kno\v  him  so  well !  But  he  didn't  tell  me,  and 
after  all  I  had  no  reason  to  suppose  it.  Oh, 
he  has  told  me  nothing — and  you  are  the  gulf 
between  us,  for  which  I  have  only  myself  to 
thank.     Ah,  if  I  had  only  dreamt — of  you  !" 

Tiny  suffered  herself  to  be  kissed  upon  the 
cheek. 

"  Pray  say  no  more,  dear  Lady  Dromard," 
she  said  quietly.  "Shall  I  tell  you  why?" 
she  added,  drawing  back.  "  Why,  because 
it's  quite  a  thing  of  the  past." 

"  It  is  not  a  thing  of  the  past,"  cried  Lady 
Dromard  passionately.  "  He  has  never  loved 
anyone  else.  He  bitterly  regrets  having  lis- 
tened to  me,  and  I,  now  that  I  know  you — I 
bitterly  regret  everything  !  And  he  loves 
you  .  .  .  and  I  would  rather  .  .  .  and  I  have 
told  him  what  is  the  simple  truth — how  I  have 
admired  you  from  the  first !  " 

The  last  sentence  was  doubtless  a  mistake. 
It  was  the  only  one  that  would  let  itself  be 
uttered,   however,  and    before    another  could 


212  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

be  added  by  either  woman  Lord  Manister  had 
tramped  into  the  room.  They  fell  the  further 
apart  as  he  came  between  them  and  stooped 
down,  laying  his  hands  heavily  on  the  little 
table.  His  eyes  sped  from  the  girl  to  his 
mother,  and  back  to  the  girl,  on  whom  they 
stayed.  One  hand  held  his  crumpled  cap. 
His  hair  was  disordered.  In  many  ways  he 
looked  at  his  best,  as  Tiny  had  always  said  he 
did  in  flannels.  But  never  before  had  Tiny 
seen  him  half  so  earnest  and  sad  and  hand- 
some. 

"  My  mother  is  right,"  he  said  firmly.  "  I 
love  you,  and  I  ask  you  to  forgive  us  both, 
and  to  give  me  what  I  don't  deserve — one 
word  of  hope  !  " 

The  young  girl  glanced  from  his  grave, 
humble  face  to  that  of  his  mother,  through 
whose  tears  a  smile  was  breaking.  Lady 
Dromard's  lips  were  parted,  half  in  surprise 
at  the  humility  of  her  son's  words,  half  in 
eagerness  for  the  answer  to  them.  Tiny 
Luttrell  read  her  like  a  printed  book,  and  rose 
to  her  feet  with  a  smile  that  was  equally 
unmistakable,  for  it  was  a  smile  of  triumph. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HER    HOUR    OF    TRIUMPH. 

Now  Herbert  was  taking  part  in  the  match, 
and  Ruth  was  in  the  ladies'  tent,  trying  not  to 
think  of  Christina,  who  was  playing  a  single- 
wicket  game  in  another  place.  But  Erskine 
Holland  was  rolling  the  rectory  court  gloomily 
and  quite  alone,  and  he  was  tired  of  Essing- 
ham.  Not  only  had  the  day  kept  fine  in  spite 
of  its  threats,  but  toward  the  end  of  the  after- 
noon it  turned  out  very  tine  indeed,  and  the 
light  became  excellent  for  lawn  tennis,  because 
there  was  nobody  to  play  with  poor  Erskine. 
Even  the  good  Willoughby  was  on  the  ac- 
cursed field  over  yonder ;  and  he  mattered 
least.  Ruth  was  there.  Tiny  was  there. 
Herbert  was  not  only  there,  but  playing  for 
Lord  Manister,  who  was  notoriously  short  of 
men.  One  can  hardly  wonder  at  Erskine's 
condemnation  of  his  brother-in-law,  out  of  his 
own  mouth,  as  a  stultified  young  fraud  in  the 
matter  of   Lord    Manister.     As  to   the  girls, 

213 


214  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

some  old  tenets  of  his  concerning  women  in 
general  returned  to  taunt  him  for  the  ship- 
wreck of  his  holiday  at  least;  Yet  Ruth  had 
but  plotted  for  her  sister's  advancement,  not 
her  own.  Whether  Cliristina  cared  in  the 
least  for  the  man  whom  she  evidently  meant 
to  marry,  if  she  could,  was,  after  all,  Chris- 
tina's own  affair.  Erskine  had  only  heard  her 
disparage  him  behind  his  back — at  which  Her- 
bert himself  could  not  beat  her — whereas 
Ruth  had  at  least  been  openly  in  favor  of  the 
fellow  from  the  very  first.  But  if  Herbert 
was  a  fraud,  what  was  the  name  for  Tiny? 
Clearly  the  only  trustworth}^  person  of  the 
three  was  Ruth,  who  at  least — yet  alone — was 
consistent. 

To  this  conclusion,  which  was  not  without 
its  pleasing  side,  Erskine  came  with  his  eyes 
on  the  ground  he  was  rolling.  But  as  he 
pushed  the  roller  toward  the  low  stone  wall 
dividing  the  lawn  from  the  churchyard,  into 
which  the  balls  were  too  often  hit,  one  came 
whizzing  out  of  it  for  a  change,  and  struck  the 
roller  under  Erskine's  nose.  And  leaning  with 
her  elbows  on  the  low  wall,  and  her  right  hand 
under  her  chin,  as  though  itv/ere  the  last  right 
handthat  could  have  flung  that  ball,  stood  the 


HER  HOUR   OF   TRIUMPH.  215 

girl  for  whom  a  bad  enough  name  had  yet  to 
be  found. 

"Where  on  earth  did  you  spring  from?" 
Holland  asked,  a  little  brusquely,  as  he 
stopped  for  a  moment  and  then  rolled  on 
toward   the   wall. 

"  If  you  mean  the  ball,"  replied  Tiny,  "  it 
must  be  the  one  we  lost  the  last  time  we 
played.  I  have  just  found  it  among  the 
graves,  and  it  slipped  out  of  my  hand." 

"  I  meant  you,"  said  Erskine,  with  an  unsuc- 
cessful smile ;  and  he  pushed  the  roller  close 
up  to  the  wall,  and  folded  his  arms  upon  the 
handle. 

"  Oh,  I  have  come  from  the  hall  by  the 
forbidden  path  over  Callow  Hill  ;  but  it  seems 
that  wasn't  meant  for  us,  and  at  any  rate  I 
have  leave  to  use  it  whenever  I  like."  She 
was  puzzling  him,  and  she  knew  it,  but  she 
met  his  eyes  with  a  mysterious  smile  for  some 
moments  before  adding :  "  You  can't  think 
what  a  view  there  is  from  the  top  of  the  hill 
— I  mean  a  view  of  the  hall.  Just  now  the 
sun  was  blazing  in  all  the  windows,  like  the 
flash  of  a  broadside  from  an  old  two-decker  ; 
you  see  it  made  such  an  impression  on  me 
that  I  thought  of  that  for  your  benefit." 


2l6  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Erskine  acknowledged  the  benefit  rather 
heavily  with  a  nod. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  Ruth  ? " 

"  To  the  best  of  my  belief  she  is  watching 
the  match  ;  at  least  she  was  an  hour  ago." 

"  Something  has  happened  !  "  exclaimed 
Erskine  Holland,  starting  upright  and  leaving 
the  roller  handle  swinging  in  the  air  like  an 
inverted  pendulum.  His  eyes  were  uncon- 
sciously stern  ;  those  of  the  girl  seemed  to  quail 
before  them. 

"  Something  Jias  happened,"  she  admitted 
to  the  top  of  the  wall.  "  I  suppose  you  would 
get  to  know  sooner  or  later,  so  I  may  as  well 
tell  you  myself  now.  The  fact  is  Lord  Man- 
ister  has  just  proposed  to  me." 

Erskine  dropped  his  eyes  and  shrugged 
slightly ;  then  he  raised  them  to  the  setting 
sun,  and  tried  to  look  resigned ;  then,  with  a 
noticeable  effort,  he  brought  them  back  to 
her  face,  and  forced  a  smile. 

"  I'm  not  surprised.  I  saw  it  coming,  though 
I  hardly  expected  it  so  soon.  Well,  Tiny,  I 
congratulate  you  !  He  is  about  the  most 
brilliant  match  in  England." 

"Quite  the  most,  I  thought?" 

"  And    I    am  sure  he  is  a  first-rate    fellow," 


HER  HOUR    OF    TRIUMPH.  2l^ 

added  Erskine  with  vigor,  regretting  that  he 
had  not  said  this  first,  and  dislikinof  what  he 
had  said. 

"  Oh,  he  is  a  very  good  sort,"  acknowledged 
Tiny  to  the  wall. 

"  So  you  ought  to  be  the  happiest  young- 
woman  in  the  world,  as  you  are  perhaps  the 
luckiest — I  mean  in  one  sense.  And  I  con- 
gratulate you,  Tiny,  I  do  indeed  !" 

To  clinch  his  congratulations  he  held  out 
his  hand,  from  which  she  raised  her  eyes  to 
him  at  last — with  the  look  of  a  cabman  refus- 
ing his  proper  fare. 

"  And  I  took  you  for  the  most  discerning 
person  I  knew  !  "  said  Tiny  very  slowly. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say " 

His  eagerness  and  incredulity  arrested  his 
speech. 

''  \  do  mean  to  say." 

"  That  you  have — refused  him  ? " 

Tiny  nodded.  "  With  thanks — not  too 
many." 

They  stared  at  one  another  for  some  mo- 
ments longer.  Then  Erskine  sat  down  on 
the  roller  and  folded  his  arms  and  looked  ex- 
tremely serious,  though  already  the  corners 
of  his  mouth  were  beginning  to  twitch. 


2l8  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Now,  you  know,  Tiny,  I'm  m  loco  parentis 
as  long  as  you're  in  England.  In  this  one 
matter  you've  no  business  to  chaff  me.  Hon- 
estly, now,  is  it  the  truth  that  Lord  Manister 
has  asked  you  to  marry  him,  and  that  you 
have  said  him  nay  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  truest  truth  I  ever  uttered  in  my 
life.  I  refused  him  point-blank,"  added  Tiny, 
with  eyes  once  more  lowered,  as  though  the 
memory  were  not  unmixed  with  shame,  *'  and 
before  his  own  mother  !  " 

"  In  the  presence  of  Lady  Dromard?" 

She  nodded  solemnly,  but  with  a  blush. 

"  Good  Lord  ! "  murmured  Erskine.  "  And 
I  was  ass  enough  to  think  you  were  leading 
him  on  !  " 

She  whispered,  "And  so  I  was." 

For  one  moment  Erskine  stared  at  her  more 
seriously  than  ever ;  then  the  reaction  came, 
and  she  saw  him  shaking.  He  shook  until 
the  tears  were  in  his  eyes  ;  and  when  he  was 
rid  of  them  he  perceived  the  same  thing  in 
Tiny's  eyes,  but  obviously  not  from  the  same 
cause. 

"  /  don't  think  it's  such  a  joke,"  said  the 
girl,  in  the  voice  of  one  pained  when  in  pain 
already.       "  I     am    pretty    well    ashamed    of 


HER   HOUR    OF    TRIUMPH.  219 

myself,  I  can  tell  you.  If  you  really  consider 
yourself  responsible  for  me  I  think  you  might 
let  me  tell  you  something  about  it ;  for  you 
must  tell  Ruth — I  daren't.  But  if  you're  going 
to  laugh  ...  let  me  tell  you  it's  no  laugh- 
inof  matter  to  me,  now  I've  done  it." 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  Holland  instantly;  "I 
am  a  brute.  Do  tell  me  anything  you  care 
to  ;  I  promise  not  to  laugh  unless  you  do. 
And  I  might  be  able  to  help  you." 

"■  Ah,  you  would  if  anybody  could ;  but 
nobody  can  ;  I  have  behaved  just  scandalously, 
and  I  know  it  as  well  as  you  do,  now  that  it's 
too  late.  Yet  I  wish  that  you  knew  all  about 
it,  Erskine  !  "  She  looked  at  him  wistfully. 
"You  understand  thinofs  so.  Would  it  bore 
you  if  I  were  to  tell  you  how  the  whole  thing 
happened  ?" 

The  oilt  hands  of  the  church  clock  made  it 
ten  minutes  to  six  when  Erskine  shook  his 
head  and  bent  it  attentively.  When  the  hour 
struck  he  had  opened  his  mouth  only  once,  to 
answer  her  question  as  to  how  much  he  knew 
of  her  affair  with  Lord  Manister  in  Melbourne. 
He  had  known  for  a  dav  and  a  half  as  much 
as  Ruth  knew ;  and  he  did  not  learn  much 
more  now,  for  the  girl  could  speak  more  freely 


220  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

of  recent  incidents,  and  dwelt  principally  on 
those  of  that  afternoon,  beginning  with  Lady 
Dromard's  extraordinary  attentiveness  on  the 
cricket  field. 

"  I  felt  there  was  something  behind  that, 
though  I  didn't  know  what  ;  I  could  only  be 
sure  that  she  had  her  eye  on  me.  However,  I 
took  a  tremendous  vow  to  face  whatever  came 
without  moving  a  muscle.  I  think  I  succeeded, 
ofi  the  whole,  but  I  was  on  the  edge  of  a  panic 
when  she  took  me  upstairs.  I  wanted  to 
clear  !     I  had  qualms  !  " 

She  was  startlingly  candid  on  another  point. 

"  I  also  made  up  my  mind  to  behave  as 
prettily  as  possible,  just  to  show  her.  I  was 
really  pleased  with  the  interest  she  seemed  to 
take  in  what  I  told  her  about  the  bush,  and  I 
was  quite  delighted  to  see  a  galar  again.  But 
I  needn't  have  made  the  fuss  I  did  in  taking 
it  out  of  its  cage  ;  that  was  purely  put  on,  and 
all  the  time  I  was  mortally  afraid  that  it  would 
peck  me.  Yet  I  suppose,"  added  Tiny,  after 
some  moments,  "  you  w^on't  believe  me  when 
I  tell  you  that  I  am  ashamed  of  all  that 
already  ?  " 

Erskine  declared  that  there  was  nothinor  in 

o 

the  world  to  be  ashamed  of ;  on  the  contrary, 


HER  HOUR    OF    TRIUMPH.  221 

in  his  opinion  she  was  perfectly  justified  in  all 
she  had  done.  With  kind  eyes  upon  her,  he 
added  what  he  very  nearly  meant,  that  he  was 
proud  of  her  ;  and  his  remark  wrought  a  change 
in  her  expression  which  convinced  him  finally 
that  at  least  she  was  not  proud  of  herself. 

"  Ah,  you  weren't  there,  Erskine,"  said 
Christina  sadly,  her  blue  eyes  clouded  with 
penitence  ;  "  you  don't  know  how  kind  poor 
Lady  Dromard  was  with  all  her  dodges  !  She 
said  it  would  be  more  comfortable  to  have  tea 
lip  there.  ComJortable  was  the  last  thing  I 
felt  in  my  heart,  but  I  never  let  her  see  that ; 
and  besides,  I  didn't  as  yet  guess  what  was 
coming.  Even  when  she  wanted  me  to  tell 
her  my  own  name,  I  couldn't  be  sure  that  she 
suspected  me.  I  wasn't  sure  until  she  asked 
me  whether  the  girl  had  got  over  it,  when  I 
knew  from  her  voice.  And  I  saw  then  that 
she  reallv  rather  liked  me,  and  half  wished  it  to 
be  ;  and  I  was  sorry  because  I  liked  her  ;  and 
though  I  spoke  my  mind  to  her  about  her  son, 
I  should  have  made  a  clean  breast  of  every- 
thing to  her  if  he  hadn't  come  in  just  then.  I 
should  have  told  her  straight  that  I  didn't  care 
that  for  him — not  now — and  that  I  had  been 
fhrting  with  him  disgracefully  just  to   try  to 


22  2  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

make  him  smart  as  I  had  smarted.  That's  the 
whole  truth  of  it,  Erskine  ;  and  I  meant  to  tell 
her  so  in  another  second,  because  I  couldn't 
stand  her  kissing  me  and  crying,  and  all  that. 
I  should  have  been  crying  myself  next  moment. 
But  just  then  he  came  in,  and  I  remembered 
everything.  I  remembered,  too,  what  she  had 
had  to  do  with  it,  on  her  own  showing ;  and 
when  I  saw  what  she  wanted  me  to  say  I  think 
I  became  possessed." 

Her  brother-in-law  was  very  curious  to  know 
all  that  Christina  had  said,  but  she  would  not 
tell  him.  She  merely  remarked  that  he  would 
think  all  the  worse,  of  her  if  he  knew,  even 
though  at  the  moment  she  could  hardly 
remember  any  one  thing  that  she  had  said. 
Then  she  paused,  and  recalled  a  little,  and  the 
little  made  her  b/ush. 

"  I  didn't  come  well  out  of  it,"  she  declared. 

Erskine  threw  discredit  on  her  v/ord  in  this 
particular  matter  ;  he  sniffed  an  extravagant 
remorse. 

"  Talk  of  hitting  a  man  when  he's  down  !  " 
exclaimed  Tiny  miserably.  "  I  hit  Lady 
Dromard  when  the  tears  were  in  her 
eyes,  and  Lord  Manister  when  he  was  hitting 
himself.     He    took    it   splendidly.      He   is  a 


HER   HOUR   OF    TRIUMPH.  223 

gentleman.  I  don't  care  what  else  he  is — lord 
or  no  lord,  he  would  always  be  a  perfect 
gentleman.  What's  more,  I  am  very  sorry  for 
im. 

"  Why  on  earth  be  sorry  for  him  ?  "  asked 
Erskine  with  a  touch  of  irritation  ;  for  when 
Tiny  spoke  of  Lady  Dromard's  tears,  her 
own  eyes  swam  with  them  ;  and  to  do  a  thing 
like  this  and  start  crying  over  it  the  moment 
it  was  done  seemed  to  Erskine  a  bad  sign. 
The  event  was  so  very  fresh,  and  so  entirely 
contrary  to  his  own  most  recent  apprehen- 
sions, that  at  present  his  only  feeling  in  the 
matter  was  one  of  profound  satisfaction.  But 
the  symptoms  she  showed  of  relenting  already 
interfered  not  a  little  with  that  satisfaction, 
while,  even  more  than  by  the  remark  that 
had  prompted  his  question,  he  was  alarmed 
by  her  ansv/er  to  it  : 

"  Because  I  believe  he  does  care  for  me,  a 
little  bit,  in  his  own  way — or  he  thinks  he 
does,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing ;  and 
because,  when  all's  said  and  done,  I  have 
treated  him  like  a  little  fiend !" 

"My  good  girl!"  said  Holland  uneasily, 
"  I  should  remember  how  he  treated  you." 

"  Ah,  no,"  answered  Christina,  shaking  her 


2  24  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

head  ;  "  I  have  remembered  that  far  too  long 
as  it  is.     That's  ancient  history." 

"  Well,  be  sorry  for  him  if  you  like ;  be 
sorry  for  yourself  as  well." 

That  was  the  best  advice  that  occurred  to 
him  at  the  moment,  but  it  set  her  off  at  a 
tangent. 

"  I  should  think  I  am  sorry  for  myself — I 
should  be  sorry  for  any  girl  who  could  so  far 
forget  herself  !  "  cried  Christina,  speaking  bit- 
terly and  at  a  great  pace.  "  Shall  I  tell  you 
the  sort  of  thing  I  said  ?  When  I  told  him  I 
could  not  possibly  believe  in  his  really  caring 
for  me,  after  the  way  in  which  he  left  Mel- 
bourne without  so  much  as  saying  good-by  to 
me  or  sending  me  word  that  he  was  going,  he 
said  it  wasn't  then  he  really  loved  me,  but  now. 
So  I  told  him  I  was  sorry  to  hear  it,  as  in  my 
case  it  might  perhaps  have  been  then,  but 
it  certainly  wasn't  now.  I  actually  said  that  ! 
Then  Lady  Dromard  spoke  up.  She  had 
been  staring  at  me  without  a  word,  but  she 
spoke  up  now,  and  it  served  me  right.  I  can't 
blame  her  for  being  indignant,  but  she  didn't 
say  half  she  could  have  said,  and  it  was  more 
what  she  implied  that  sticks  and  stings.  It 
didn't  sting  then,  though  ;  I  was  thinking  of 


HER  HOUR   OF   TRIUMPH.  22$ 

all  the  talk  out  there.  It  was  when  Lord 
Manister  stopped  her,  and  held  out  his  hand 
to  me  and  said,  '  Anyway  you  forgive  me 
now?  1  thought  you  /^<2^  forgiven  me' — it 
was  then  I  began  to  tingle.  I  said  I  forgave 
him,  of  course  ;  and  then  I  bolted.  But  I 
was  sorry  for  him,  and  I  am  sorry  for  him, 
whatever  you  say,  for  I  had  cut  him  to  the 
heart.  .  .  And  he  looked  most  awfully  nice 
the  v^diole  time  !  " 

With  these  frivolous  last  words  there  came 
a  smile :  the  normal  oirl  shone  out  for  an 
instant,  as  the  sun  breaks  through  clouds  ; 
and  Erskine  took  advantage  of  the  gleam. 

"To  the  heart  of  his  vanity — that's  w^here 
you  cut.  You've  humiliated  him  certainly  ; 
but  surely  he  deserved  it?  In  any  case, 
you've  given  young  Manister  the  right-about  ; 
and  upon  my  soul  that's  rather  a  performance 
for  our  Tiny !  I  should  only  like  to  have 
seen  it." 

"  It's  good  of  you  to  call  me  your  Tiny," 
returned  the  young  girl  rather  coldly.  "  But 
don't  talk  to  me  about  performances,  please, 
unless  you  mean  disgraceful  performances.  I 
wish  I  had  never  come  to  Enofland — I  wish  I 
was  back  in  Australia — I  wish  I  was  up  at  the 


2  26  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Station  ! "  she  cried  with  sudden  passion.  "  I 
am  miserable,  and  you  won't  understand  me  ; 
and  Ruth  couldn't  if  she  tried." 

"  My  dear  girl,"  Erskine  said  in  rather  an 
injured  tone,  "surely  you're  a  little  unfair  on 
us  both  ?  Ruth  will  understand  when  I  tell 
her;  aad  as  for  me — I  think  I  understand  you 
already." 

"  Not  you  !  "  answered  Tiny  disdainfully. 
"  You  call  it  a  performance  !  You  treat  it  as 
a  joke ! "  And  she  left  him,  with  the  tears 
in  her  eyes. 

He  watched  her  enter  the  garden  by  the 
little  gate  lower  down,  and  saunter  toward 
the  house  with  lagging  steps.  The  low  sun 
streamed  upon  her  drooping  figure.  Even  at 
that  distance,  and  with  her  face  hidden  from 
him,  she  seemed  to  Erskine  the  incarnation  of 
all  that  was  wayward  and  willful  and  sweet  in 
girlhood.  And  her  tears  and  temper  made 
her  doubly  sweet,  as  the  rain  draws  new  fra- 
grance from  a  flower ;  but  they  had  also  made 
her  doubly  difficult  to  understand.  One  mo- 
ment he  had  seen  her  plainly,  as  in  the  lime 
light ;  in  another,  she  had  retired  to  a  deeper 
shade  than  before.  The  explanation  of  her 
conduct   toward   Lord   Manister   had   been    a 


HER   HOUR   OF    TRIUMPH.  227 

sufficiently  startling  revelation,  yet  a  perfectly 
lucid  one  ;  but  what  of  this  prompt  transition 
to  tears  and  penitence  ?  The  only  interpreta- 
tion which  suggested  itself  to  Erskine  was  one 
that  he  refused  to  entertain.  He  preferred  to 
attribute  Christina's  present  state  of  mind  to 
mere  reaction  ;  if  the  reaction  had  taken  a 
rather  hysterical  form,  that,  perhaps,  was  not  to 
be  wondered  at.  Moreover,  this  seemed  to  be 
indeed  the  case  ;  for  the  girl  was  seen  no  more 
that  day,  save  by  Ruth,  who  by  night  was  per- 
haps the  most  disappointed  person  in  the 
parish  ;  only  she  managed  to  conceal  her  dis- 
appointment in  a  way  that  it  was  impossible 
not  to  admire. 

Nevertheless  dinner  at  the  rectory  was  a 
dismal  meal,  and  the  more  so  for  the  high 
spirits  of  Herbert,  which,  meeting  with  no 
response,  turned  to  silence.  Poor  Herbert 
happened  to  have  distinguished  himself  in  the 
match,  which,  indeed,  he  had  been  largely  in- 
strumental in  winnino  for  his  side  ;  but  neither 
Ruth  nor  her  husband  showed  anv  interest  in 
his  exploit,  and  Tiny  was  not  there.  Erskine 
was  no  cricketer  ;  Herbert  hated  him  for  it, 
and  made  a  sidlen  attack  on  the  claret. 
But  at  length  it  dawned  upon  him  that   there 


2  28  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

was  some  special  reason  for  the  silence  and 
glum  looks  at  either  end  of  the  table,  for  which 
Christina's  alleo^ed  headache  would  not  in 
itself  account  ;  and  when  Ruth  left  the  table 
early  to  look  after  Tiny,  he  said  bluntly  to 
Erskine  : 

"  You're  enough  to  give  a  fellow  the  blues, 
the  pair  of  you!  What's  wrong?  Have  I 
done  anything,  or  has  Tiny  ?" 

Erskine  temporized,  pushing  forward  the 
claret.  "  I  understand  yon  have  done  some- 
thing," he  said  with  a  first  approach  to  genial- 
ity ;  "  but,  upon  my  word,  old  fellow,  I  don't 
knov/  what  it  is.  I  couldn't  listen,  for  the  life 
of  me ;  and  3'ou  must  forgive  me.  Tiny's 
upset,  and  that's  upset  Ruth,  which  I  suppose 
has  upset  me  in  my  turn.  Please  call  me 
names — I  deserve  them — and  then  tell  me 
again  what  you  have  done." 

Herbert  did  not  require  two  invitations  to 
do  this.  He  had  not  only  acquitted  himself 
brilliantly,  but  there  was  a  peculiar  piquancy 
in  his  success  ;  he  had  saved  the  side  which 
had  treated  him  with  unobtrusive  but  galling 
contempt  until  the  last  moment,  when  he 
opened  their  eyes,  and  their  throats  too.  They 
had  put  him  to  field  at   short  leg ;  during  the 


HER  HOUR   OF    TRIUMPH.  229 

intervals,  after  the  fall  of  a  wicket,  not  one  of 
them  had  spoken  a  word  to  him,  save  good- 
natured  Mr.  Willoughby  ;  and  they  had  sent 
him  in  last,  with  hopeless  faces,  when  there 
were  many  runs  to  get.  The  good  batsmen, 
beginning  with  Lord  Manister,  had  mostly 
failed  miserably.  The  Honorable  Stanley 
Dromard,  who  had  been  in  fine  form  all  the 
week,  had  alone  done  well ;  and  he  was  still 
at  the  wicket  when  Herbert  whipped  in, 
with  his  ears  full  of  gratuitous  instruc- 
tions to  keep  his  wicket  up,  and  not  to 
try  to  hit  the  professional,  and  his 
heart  full  of  other  designs.  Those  instruc- 
tions were  given  without  much  knowledge  of 
this  young  Australian,  who  took  a  sincere  de- 
light in  disregarding  them.  He  had  hit  out 
from  the  very  first,  particularly  at  the  profes- 
sional, who  disliked  being  hit,  and  who  was 
also  somewhat  demoralized  by  the  extreme 
respect  with  which  he  had  been  treated  by 
preceding  batsmen.  There  were  thirty  runs 
to  make  when  Herbert  went  in,  and  in  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  he  made  them  nearly  all  from 
his  own  bat,  exhibitino-  an  almost  insolent 
amount  of  coolness  and  nerve  at  the  crisis. 
The  best  of  it  was  that  no  one  had  considered 


230  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

it  a  crisis  when  he  went  in  ;  but  his  truculent 
batting-  had  immediately  made  it  one,  and  ulti- 
mately, in  a  scene  of  the  greatest  excitement, 
of  which  Herbert  was  tlie  hero,  an  almost  cer- 
tain defeat  had  been  converted  into  a  glorious 
victory.  All  this  was  confirmed  by  the  local 
newspaper  next  day  ;  considering  his  achieve- 
ment and  his  character,  the  hero  himself  told 
his  tale  with  modesty. 

"  He  bowled  like  beggary,"  he  concluded, 
in  allusion  to  the  discomfited  professional  ; 
"  but  I  tell  you,  old  toucher,  we  were  too 
many  measles  for  him  !  " 

*'  They  were  more  civil  to  you  after  that?" 

"My  oath!"  said  Herbert  complacently. 
"  Those  Eton  jokers  kicked  up  hell's  delight  ! 
Stanley  Dromard  shook  hands  with  me  be- 
tween the  wickets,  and  said  I  ought  to  be 
going  up  to  Trinity ;  but  he's  a  real  good 
sportsman,  with  less  side  than  you'd  think. 
His  governor,  the  earl,  congratulated  me  in 
person — you  bet  I  felt  it  down  my  marrow  ! 
He  wants  to  know  how  it  is  I'm  not  playing 
for  the  Australians.  The  only  man  v/ho 
didn't  say  a  word  to  me  was  that  dam'  fool 
Manister." 

"  Ah,  he  was  on  the  ground,  then  ?  " 


HER  HOUR   OF   TRIUMPH.  231 

"  He  turned  up  as  I  went  in  ;  and  when  I 
came  out  he  didn't  look  at  me.  Who  the 
blazes  does  he  think  he  is?  I'm  as  good  a 
man  as  him,  though  I'm  a  larrikin  and  he's  a 
twopenny  lord.  I  don't  care  what  he  is,  I  had 
the  bulge  over  him  to-day — he  made  four !" 

*'  Perhaps  someone  else  has  had  the  bulge 
over  him,  too,"  suggested  Erskine  gently. 

"  Has  someone  ?  " 

Erskine  nodded. 

"  Our  Tiny  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  he  has  asked  her  to  marry  him,  and 
she  has  refused  him  on  the  spot." 

Herbert  shot  out  of  his  chair. 

"  So're  you  crackin'  !  I  thought  something 
was  wrong,  man  ?     O  Lord,  this  is  a  treat !  " 

"  It's  a  treat  she  didn't  prepare  one  for.  I 
had  visions  of  a  very  different  upshot." 

"  Aha  !  you  never  know  where  you  have  our 
Tiny.  No  more  does  old  Manister.  Oh,  but 
this  is  a  treat  for  the  gods  ! " 

"  I  told  Tiny  it  was  a  performance,"  Erskine 
said  reflectively  ;  "  i*"  struck  me  as  one,  and  I 
was  trying  to  cheer  her  up — but  that  wasn't 
the  way." 

"  No  ?  She's  a  terror,  our  Tiny  !  "  murmured 
Herbert,  with  a  running  chuckle.       "  Now  I 


232  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

know  why  the  brute  was  so  civil  to  me  the 
first  time  I  met  him  in  these  parts.  Even  then 
my  hand  itched  to  fill  his  eye  for  him,  but  I 
didn't  say  anything,  because  Tiny  seemed  on 
the  job  herself.  To  think  this  was  her  game ! 
I  must  go  and  shake  hands  with  her.  I  must 
go  and  tell  her  she's  done  better  than  filling 
up  his  eye." 

"  Don't  you,"  said  Erskine  quietly.  "  I 
wouldn't  say  much  to  her  afterward,  either,  if 
I  may  give  you  a  hint.  She  doesn't  take  quite 
our  view  of  this  matter.  Not  that  we  can  pre- 
tend that  ours  is  at  all  a  nice  view  of  it,  mind 
you  ;  only  I  really  do  regard  it  as  a  bit  of  a 
performance  on  our  Tiny's  part,  and  !  should 
like  to  have  seen  it." 

"  By  ghost,  so  should  I  !  And  seriously," 
added  Herbert,  "  he  deserved  all  he's  got.  I 
happen  to  know." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  CYCLE  OF  MOODS. 

But  the  girl  herself  chose  to  think  other- 
wise. That  was  her  perversity.  She  could 
now  see  excuses  for  her  own  ill-treatment  in 
the  past,  but  none  for  the  revenge  she  had 
just  taken  on  the  man  who  had  treated  her 
badly.  A  revenge  it  had  certainly  been,  plotted 
systematically,  and  carried  out  from  first  to 
last  in  sufficiently  cold  blood.  But  already 
she  was  ashamed  of  it.  So  sincerely  ashamed 
was  Christina,  now  that  she  had  completed 
her  retaliation  and  secured  her  triumph,  that 
she  very  much  exaggerated  the  e^'il  she  had 
done,  and  could  imagine  no  baser  behavior 
than  her  own.  She  had,  indeed,  felt  the 
baseness  of  it  while  yet  there  was  time  to 
draw  back,  but  the  memory  of  her  own 
humiliation  had  been  her  goad  whenever  she 
hesitated ;  and  then  the  way  had  been  made 
irresistibly  easy   for  her.       But   this  was  no 

comfort  to  her  now.      Neither  was  that  goad 

333 


234  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

any  excuse  to  her  self-accusing-  mind  ;  for  she 
could  feel  it  no  longer,  which  made  her  wonder 
how  she  had  ever  felt  it  at  all.  Her  iud^nient 
was  obscured  by  the  magnitude  of  her  mean- 
ness in  her  own  eyes.  The  revulsion  of  feeling 
was  as  complete  as  it  was  startling  and  dis- 
tressing to  herself. 

In  her  trouble  and  excitement  that  night  it 
became  necessary  for  her  to  speak  to  some- 
one, and  she  spoke  with  unusual  freedom  to 
Ruth,  who  displayed  on  this  occasion,  among 
others,  a  really  lamentable  want  of  tact.  Tiny 
sought  to  explain  her  trouble  :  it  was  not  that 
she  could  possibly  care  for  Lord  Manister 
again,  or  dream  of  marrying  him  under  any 
circumstances  (Ruth  said  nothing  to  all  this), 
but  that  she  half  believed  he  really  cared  for 
her  (Ruth  was  sure  of  it),  in  his  own  way 
(Ruth  seemed  to  believe  in  his  way)  ;  and  in 
any  case  she  was  very  sorry  for  him.  So  was 
Ruth,  In  all  the  circumstances  the  sorrow 
of  Ruth  miorht  well  have  received  a  less  frank 
expression  than  she  thought  fit  to  give  it. 

But  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  this  did  not 
occur  to  Ruth.  She  was  in  and  out  of  the 
room  until  at  last  Christina  was  asleep,  and 
dreaming  of  the  hall  windows  ablaze  against 


A    CYCLE   OF  MOODS.  235 

the  sunset,  while  again  and  again  in  her  sleep 
the  warm,  broken  voice  of  Lady  Dromard 
turned  hard  and  cold.  Ruth  watched  her 
affectionately  enough  as  she  slept,  and  con- 
soled herself  for  her  own  disappointment  by 
tlie  reflection  that  at  least  they  understood 
one  another  now.  Therefore  it  v/as  a  rude 
shock  to  her  when  Christina  came  down  next 
dav  and  would  hardly  look  at  any  of  them. 

Her  mood  had  chano^ed  ;  it  was  now  her 
worst.  She  was  pale  still,  but  her  expression 
was  set,  and  there  was  a  quarrelsome  glitter 
in  her  eyes ;  the  fact  being  that  she  was  a 
little  tired  of  chastising  herself,  and  exceed- 
incrly  ready  to  begin  on  some  second  person. 
So  Erskine  himself  was  badly  snubbed  at  his 
own  breakfast  table,  and  v/hen  Tiny  after- 
ward took  herself  into  the  kitchen  garden 
Ruth  followed  her  for  an  explanation,  in  the 
fullness  of  her  confidence  that  they  understood 
one  another  at  last.  No  explanation  was 
given,  Tiny  merely  remarking  that  she  was 
sorry  if  she  had  been  rude,  but  that  she  was 
in  an  evil  state  all  through,  and  unfit  for 
human  society.  To  Ruth,  however,  this  only 
meant  that  Tiny  was  unfit  to  be  alone.  So 
Ruth  remained  in  the  kitchen  garden  too,  and 


236  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

was  good  enough  to  resume  gratuitously  her 
consolations  of  the  night  before.  But  in  a 
very  few  minutes  she  returned,  complaining, 
to  her  husband. 

"My  dear,"  said  he  at  once,  "you  oughtn't 
to  have  gone  near  her.  Above  all,  you 
shouldn't  have  broached  the  subject  of  her 
affairs  ;  you  should  have  left  that  to  her.  She 
seems  considerably  ashamed  of  herself,  and 
though  I  must  say  I  think  that's  absurd,  you 
can't  help  liking  her  the  better  for  it.  She 
surprised  us  all,  but  she  surprised  herself  too, 
because  she  has  found  that  she  can't  strike  a 
blow  without  hurting  herself  at  least  as  badly 
as  anybody  else  ;  and  that  shows  the  good  in 
her.  Personally,  I  think  the  blow  was  justi- 
fied ;  but  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The 
point  is  that  if  she's  mortified  about  the  whole 
concern,  as  is  obviously  the  case,  it  must 
increase  her  mortification  to  know  that  we 
know  all  about  it,  and  that  she  herself  has 
told  us.  Which  applies  more  to  me  than  to 
you.  It  was  natural  she  should  tell  you  ;  she 
only  told  me  because  I  happened  to  be  the 
first  person  she  saw,  and  I  can  qui.te  under- 
stand her  hating  me  by  this  time  for  listening. 
We    must    ignore    the    whole    matter   except 


A    CYCLE   OF  MOODS.  237 

when  it  pleases  her  to  bring  it  up,  and  then 
we  must  let  her  make  the  runnine." 

"  I  hate  people  to  require  so  much  humor- 
ing ! "  exclaimed  Ruth,  with  some  reason. 

"Well,  I  must  say  I'm  glad  that jf^^^ don't," 
her  husband  said  prettily.  "  As  to  Tiny, 
her  faults  are  very  sweet,  and  her  moods  are 
really  interesting— but  I'm  thankful  they  don't 
run  in  the  family  ! " 

He  seemed  thankful. 

"Yet  you're  a  wonderful  man  for  under- 
standing other  people,"  returned  Ruth  as 
prettily ;  and  her  eyes  were  full  of  admiration. 

"Ah,  well!  Tiny's  not  like  other  people. 
I  think  she  must  enjoy  startling  one.  Our 
best  plan  is  to  expect  the  unexpected  of  her 
from  this  time  forth,  and  to  let  her  be  until 
she  comes  to  herself." 

And  that  came  to  pass  quite  in  good  time. 
Having  effaced  herself  all  the  morning  and 
again  during  the  afternoon,  and  having  been 
grotesquely  polite  to  the  others  (when  it  was 
necessary  to  speak  to  them)  at  midday  dinner. 
Tiny  appeared  at  tea  in  another  frock  and  fl}'- 
ing  signals  of  peace.  She  seemed  anxious  to 
acquiesce  with  things  that  were  said.  So 
Erskine  forced  jokes  which  were  sufficiently 


238  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

terrible  in  themselves,  but  they  served  a  good 
purpose  very  well.  Christina  recovered  her 
old  form,  and  after  tea  made  a  winsome 
assault  upon  no  less  redoubtable  a  defender 
of  his  own  inclinations  than  her  brother  Her- 
bert. Him  she  successfully  importuned  to 
take  her  to  church  in  the  evening,  although 
not  to  the  church  close  at  hand,  where  there 
was  never,  necessarily,  any  service  in  the 
rector's  absence.  Tiny,  however,  had  heard 
from  her  friends  in  the  village  of  a  gifted 
young  Irishman  who  wore  a  stole  and  held 
forth  extempore  in  a  neighboring  parish  ;  they 
found  their  way  to  it  across  the  twilight  fields. 
They  did  not  return  till  after  nine,  when  Chris- 
tina seemed  much  briorhter  than  before.  Her 
brightness,  however,  was  seemingly  more 
grateful  to  Mr.  than  to  Mrs.  Holland,  who 
enticed  her  brother  into  the  oarden  after 
supper,  to  ask  him  whether  Tiny  had  not 
mentioned  Lord  Manister. 

"  Wh}^,  yes,  she  did  just  mention  him,"  said 
Herbert ;  "  but  that's  all.  I  wasn't  going  to 
say  a  word  about  the  joker,  and  just  as  we 
came  back  to  the  drive  here  she  got  a  hold  of 
my  arm  and  thanked  me  for  not  having  asked 
her  any  questions  ;  so   I   was  glad   I   hadn't. 


A   CYCLE  OF  MOODS.  239 

She  said  she  wasn't  by  any  means  proud  of 
herself,  and  that  she  wanted  to  forget  the 
whole  thing,  if  we'd  only  let  her.  She  doesn't 
want  to  be  bothered  about  it  by  anybody. 
Those  were  her  very  words,  as  we  came  up 
the  drive.  She  was  jolly  enough  all  the  way 
there,  talking  mostly  about  Wallandoon. 
You'll  have  noticed  how  keen  she  is  on  the 
station  ever  since  she  went  up  there  with  the 
governor  last  April ;  I  think  the  old  place  was 
a  treat  to  her  after  Melbourne,  to  tell  you  the 
truth." 

Ruth  nodded,  as  much  as  to  say  that  she 
knew.  She  asked,  however,  whether  Tiny  had 
t?.lked  also  of  Wallandoon  on  the  way 
home.  ■ 

"  No  ;  she  was  a  bit  quiet  on  the  way  home. 
I  think  the  sermon  must  have  made  an  im- 
pression on  her,  but  I  didn't  hear  it  myself  ; 
I  put  in  a  sleep  instead.  In  the  hymns,  though, 
she  sang  out  immense — by  ghost,  as  if  she 
meant  it !  I  rather  wished  I'd  heard  the 
sermon,"  remarked  Herbert  thoughtfully, 
"because  it  seemed  to  set  her  thinking. 
I  believe  she's  given  to  thinking  of  those 
things  now  and  then  ;  I  shouldn't  be  surprised 
to  see  her  go  religious  some  day,  if  she  don't 


240  TINY  LUTTRELL 

marry;  I'd  rather  she  did,  too,  than  marry 
a  thing  Hke  Manister  ! " 

The  next  day  was  their  last  at  Essingham, 
for  which  not  even  Ruth  could  grieve,  in  view 
of  recent  events.  The  day,  however,  was  its 
own  consolation  ;  it  was  cold  and  dull  and 
damp,  though  not  actually  wet,  so  that 
Erskine,  who  spent  the  greater  part  of  the 
morning  in  front  of  a  barometer,  had  hopes 
of  some  final  sets  in  the  afternoon,  when  the 
Willoughbys  were  coming  to  say  good-by. 
Nor  was  he  disappointed  when  the  time 
arrived,  though  the  court  was  dead  and  the 
light  bad  ;  his  own  service  was  the  more  tell- 
ing under  these  conditions.  But  to  the  two 
girls,  who  had  been  brought  up  to  better 
things,  it  was  a  repulsive  day  from  all  points 
of  view,  and  they  were  very  glad  to  spend  th^ 
morning  in  packing  up  before  a  hearty  fire. 

"This  is  the  kind  of  thincj  that  makes  one 
sigh  for  Wallandoon,"  Tiny  happened  to  say 
once  as  she  stood  looking  out  of  the  window 
at  gray  sky  and  sullied  trees.  The  thought 
was  spoken  just  as  it  came  into  her  head  with 
an  imaginary  beam  of  bush  sunshine.  There 
was  no  other  thought  behind  it — no  human 
mote   in  that   sunbeam   certainly.     But  Ruth 


A    CYCLE  OF  MOODS.  241 

had  raised  her  head  swiftly  from  the  trunk 
over  which  she  was  bending,  and  she  knelt 
gazing  at  her  sister's  back  as  a  dog  pricks  its 
ears. 

"Why  Wallandoon?  Why  not  Mel- 
bourne ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  had  enough  of  Melbourne," 
replied  Christina  quietly,  and  without  turning 
round. 

"  I  thought  you  took  so  kindly  to  it  ?" 

"  Perhaps  I  did  ;  I  have  taken  kindly  to 
many  things  that  were  bad  for  me  in  my  time. 
And  that's  all  the  more  reason  why  I  should 
hanker  after  Wallandoon.  I  only  wish  we 
could  all  go  back  there  to  live  !  " 

"  Well,  I  must  say  I  shouldn't  care  to  live 
there  now,"  remarked  Ruth,  with  a  little  laugh  ; 
"  and  I  don't  see  how  you  could  like  it  either, 
after  civilization." 

"  Ah,  that's  because  you  never  cared  for  the 
station  as  I  did,"  replied  Christina,  with  her 
back  still  turned  ;  "  you  liked  the  veranda 
better  than  the  run,  and  you  hated  the  dust 
from  the  sheep  when  you  were  riding.  I  can 
smell  it  now!  Just  think:  they'll  be  in  the 
middle  of  shearing  by  this  time.  They  were 
going  to  have  thirty-six  shearers  on  the  board, 


242  TINY  LUTTRELl, 

and  they  expected  the  best  clip  they've  had 
for  years.  Can't  you  hear  the  blades  clicking 
and  the  tar  boys  tearing  down  the  board,  and 
the  bales  being  heaved  about  at  the  back  of 
the  shed — or  see  the  fleeces  thrown  out  on  the 
table  and  rolled  up  and  bounced  into  the  bins 
— and  father  drafting  in  a  cloud  of  dust  at  the 
yards  ?  Can't  I  !  Many's  the  time  I've 
brought  him  a  mob  of  woollies  myself.  And 
how  good  the  pannikin  of  tea  was,  and  the 
shearer's  bun  !  I  can  taste  'em  now.  You 
never  cared  for  tea  in  a  pannikin.  Yet  per- 
haps if  you'd  ever  gone  back  to  see  the  place 
since  we  left  it,  as  I  did,  you  might  be  as  keen 
on  it  as  I  am.  I  own  I  wasn't  so  keen  when 
we  lived  there.  When  I  went  back  and  saw  it 
the  other  day,  though,  I  thought  it  the  best 
place  in  the  world;  and  you  would,  too." 

"Is  Jack  Swift   managing   it  now?"  Ruth 
asked  indifferently. 
•  "You  knew  he  was." 

"  Really  I'm  afraid  I  don't  know  much  about 
it ;  but  if  you're  so  fond  of  the  place  as  all  that. 
Tiny,  I  should  just  marry  Jack  Swift,  and  live 
there  ever  after." 

"  I  suppose  you're  joking,"  said  the  young 
girl  rather  scornfully  ;  "  but  in  case  you  aren't 


A    CYCLE   OF  MOODS.  243 

perhaps  it  will  relieve  you  to  hear  that,  if  ever 
I  do  marry,  I  shall  marry  a  man — not  a 
place." 

And  she  turned  round  and  stared  hard 
through  another  window,  which  commanded  a 
view  of  the  Mundham  gates  and  grounds  ;  and 
Ruth  made  no  more  jokes  ;  but  neither,  on  the 
other  hand,  did  Tiny  expatiate  any  further  on 
the  attractions  of  station  life  at  Wallan- 
doon. 

The  Willoughbys  came  in  the  afternoon, 
when  Mrs.  Willoughby  was  severely  disap- 
pointed, owing  to  the  rudeness  of  Christina, 
who  had  disappeared  mysteriously,  although 
she  knew  that  these  people  were  coming. 
Mrs.  Willoughby  had  seen  her  last  leaving  the 
cricket  ground  at  Mundham  under  the  wing  of 
Lady  Dromard — Mrs.  Willoughby  had  looked 
forward  immensely  to  seeing  her  again.  But 
Christina  had  gone  out, and  none  knew  whither  ; 
the  visitor's  idea  was  some  private  engagement 
at  the  hall  ;  and  this  was  not  the  only  idea 
she  expressed,  a  little  too  freely  for  the  entire 
ease  of  Christina's  sister.  Happily  they 
were  only  ideas.  Mrs.  Willoughby  knew 
nothing. 

Tiny,  as  it  turned  out  later,  had  spent  the 


244  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

whole  afternoon  in  the  village,  saying  good-by 
to  her  friends  there.  Ruth  found  this  rather 
difificult  to  believe,  as  she  had  heard  so  little 
of  the  friends  in  question.  Nevertheless  it 
was  strictly  true,  and  Tiny  had  taken  tea  with 
Mrs.  Clapperton,  whose  tears  she  had  kissed 
away  when  they  said  good-by  ;  but  that  was 
only  the  end  of  a  scene  which  would  have 
been  a  revelation  to  some  who  prided  them- 
selves on  knowing  their  Tiny  as  well  as  any- 
one could  know  so  unaccountable  a  person. 
At  dinner  that  evening  she  seemed  chastened 
and  subdued,  yet  her  temper,  certainly,  had 
never  been  sweeter.  It  was  noticeable  that, 
while  she  had  a  responsive  smile  for  most 
things  that  were  said,  she  made  fun  of  nothing 
herself  ;  and  she  was  far  too  fond  of  making 
fun  of  everything.  But  for  two  whole  days 
her  moods  had  come  and  gone  like  the  shad- 
ows of  the  clouds  when  sun  and  wind  are 
strong  together ;  and  the  last  of  her  whims 
was  not  the  least  puzzling  at  the  time.  Later 
Ruth  read  it  to  her  own  extreme  satisfaction  ; 
but  at  the  time  it  did  seem  odd  to  her  that 
anyone  should  desire  a  walk  on  so  chilly  and 
unattractive  a  night.  Yet  when  they  had  left 
the    men   to   themselves  this  was   what  Tiny 


A    CYCLE    OF  MOODS.  245 

said  she  would  like  above  all  things.  And 
Ruth,  who  humored  her,  had  her  reward. 

For  she  found  herself  being  led  through 
the  churchyard  ;  and  when  she  hesitated  as 
they  came  to  the  notice  to  trespassers,  Tiny 
muttered  in  a  dare-devil  way  : 

"  Lady  Dromard  gave  me  leave  to  come 
this  way  whenever  I  liked,  and  I  mean  to 
make  use  of  my  privilege  while  I  can.  I  want 
to  see  the  hall  once  aoain — it  has  a  sort  of 
fascination  for  me  !  " 

More  amazed  than  before,  Ruth  followed 
her  leader  up  the  western  slope  of  Gallow 
Hill.  The  night  was  so  dark  that  they  heard 
the  rustle  of  the  beeches  on  top  before  they 
could  discern  their  branches  against  the  sky ; 
and  standing  under  them  presently,  panting 
from  their  climb,  they  gazed  down  upon  a 
double  row  of  warm  lig-hts  embedded  in  black- 
ness.  These  were  the  hall  windows,  in  even 
tier,  with  here  and  there  one  missing,  like  the 
broken  teeth  of  a  comb.  Outline  the  building 
had  none  ;  only  the  windows  were  bitten  upon 
a  sable  canvas  in  ruddy  orange  and  glimmering 
yellow,  from  which  there  was  just  enough  re- 
flection on  the  lawn  and  shrubs  to  chain  them 
to  earth  in  the  mind  of  one  who  watched. 


246  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Only  the  windows,"  murmured  Tiny 
musingly.  "  Those  windows  mean  to  haunt 
me  for  the  rest  of  my  lime." 

"  I  wish  it  were  moonlight,"  Ruth  said.  "  I 
wish  we  could  see  everything." 

"  No,  I  like  it  best  as  it  is,"  remarked  Tiny, 
after  further  meditation.  "  It  leaves  some- 
thing to  your  imagination.  Those  windows 
are  going  to  leave  my  imagination  uncom- 
monly well  off ! " 

They  stood  together  in  silence,  and  the 
beeches  talked  in  whispers  above  them. 
When  Ruth  spoke  next  she  whispered  too,  as 
though  they  were  just  outside  those  lighted 
windows  : 

"  Yet  you  would  rather  live  at  Wallandoon 
than  anywhere  else  on  earth  !" 

Tiny  said  nothing  to  that ;  but  after  it,  at  a 
distance,  there  came  a  sigh. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Ruth  ?" 

"  I'd  rather  not  tell  you,  dear ;  it  might 
make  you  angry." 

"  I  think  I  like  being  made  angry  just  at 
present,"  said  Christina,  with  a  little  laugh ; 
"but  you've  spiked  my  guns  by  saying  that 
first ;  you  are  quite  safe,  my  dear." 

"Then    I    was    thinking  — I     couldn't    help 


A   CYCLE  OF  MOODS.  '  247 

thinking— that  one  day  you  might  have  been 

mistress -" 

"  Of  the  windows  ?  Then  it's  high  time  we 
turned  our  backs  on  them  !  That's  just  what 
I  was  thinking  myself  1" 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE    INVISIBLE    IDEAL. 

On  the  flags  of  a  London  square,  some  days 
later,  Ruth  repeated  the  sigh  that  had  suc- 
ceeded on  Gallow  Hill,  and  once  more  Chris- 
tina asked  her  what  was  the  matter. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  said  Ruth  with  a  confi- 
dence born  of  the  former  occasion,  "  that  one 
day  all  this,  too,  would  have  been  more  or  less 
yours." 

"All  what,  pray?" 

"  Every  brick  and  slate  that  you  can  see  ! 
All  this  is  part  of  the  Dromard  estate ;  they 
own  every  inch  hereabouts." 

Christina's  next  remark  was  a  perfectly 
pleasant  one  in  itself,  only  it  referred  to  a 
totally  different  matter.  And  thus  she  treated 
poor  Ruth.  At  other  times  she  would  herself 
rush  into  the  subject  without  warning,  and  out 
of  it  the  moment  it  wearied  or  annoyed  her; 
to   follow  her  closely  in   and  out   required   a 

nimble  tact  indeed.      Nor  was  it  easy  to  know 

248 


THE  INVISIBLE    IDEAL,  249 

always  the  right  thing  to  say,  or  at  all  delight- 
ful to  feel  that  the  right  thing  to-day  might  be 
the  wrong  thing  to-morrow.  But  into  this  one 
subject  Ruth  was  as  ready  to  enter  at  a  hint 
from  Tiny  as  she  was  now  contented  to  quit 
it  at  her  caprice.  The  elder  sister's  patience 
and  good  temper  were  alike  wonderful,  but 
still  more  wonderful  was  her  faith.  Instinct- 
ively she  felt  that  all  was  not  over  between 
Tiny  and  Lord  Manister,  and  like  many  people 
who  do  not  pretend  to  be  clever^  and  are  fond 
of  saying  so,  she  believed  immensely  in  her 
instincts.  It  must  not,  however,  be  forgotten 
that  her  wishes  for  Tiny  were  the  very  best 
she  could  conceive  ;  and  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  she  had  nobody  but  Tiny  to  watch 
over  and  care  for,  to  think  about  and  make 
plans  for,  during  the  long  days  when  Erskine 
was  in  the  City.  This  was  the  great  excuse 
for  Ruth,  which  never  occurred  to  her  hus- 
band, and  was  unknown  even  to  herself. 
Christina  was  her  baby,  and  a  very  trouble- 
some, bad  baby  it  was. 

But  what  could  you  expect  ?  The  girl  was 
sufficiently  worried  and  unsettled  ;  she  was 
suffering  from  those  upsetting  fluctuations  of 
mind  which  few  of  her  kind  entirely  escape, 


250  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

but  which  are  violent  in  characters  that  have 
grown  with  the  emotional  side  to  the  sun  and 
the  intellectual  side  to  the  wall.  In  such  a 
case  the  mind  remains  hard  and  green,  while 
the  emotions  ripen  earlier  than  need  be ;  and 
the  fault  is  the  gardener's,  and  the  gardener  is 
the  girl's  mother.  Now  Mrs.  Luttrell  was  a 
soulless  but  ladylike  nonentity,  with  an  eye 
naturally  blind  to  the  soul  in  her  girls.  All 
she  herself  had  taught  them  was  an  unaffected 
manner  and  the  necessity  of  becoming  mar- 
ried. So  Ruth  had  married  both  early  and 
we]l  by  the  favor  of  the  gods,  and  Christina 
had  restored  the  average  by  committing  more 
follies  of  all  sizes  than  would  appear  possible 
in  the  time.  That  in  which  Lord  Manister 
was  concerned  had  doubtless  been  the  most 
important  of  the  series,  but  its  sting  lay  greatly 
in  its  notoriety.  It  had  caused  a  light-hearted 
girl  to  see  herself  suddenly  in  the  pupils  of 
many  eyes,  and  to  recoil  in  shame  from  her 
own  littleness.  It  had  made  her  hate  both 
herself  and  the  owners  of  all  those  eyes,  but 
men  especially,  of  whom  she  had  seen  far  too 
much  in  a  short  space  of  time.  What  she  had 
done  in  England  only  heightened  her  poor 
opinion  of  herself  now  that  it  was  done.     She 


THE   INVISIBLE  IDEAL.  25 1 

had  seen  her  way  to  an  incredibly  sweet 
revenge,  only  to  find  it  incredibly  bitter.  In 
strikinof  hard  she  had  hurt  herself  most,  as 
Erskine  had  divined  ;  instead  of  satisfying  her 
naturally  vindictive  feeling  toward  Lord  Man- 
ister  that  blow  had  killed  it.  Now  she  for- 
gave him  freely,  but  found  it  impossible  to 
forgive  herself ;  and  so  the  generosity  that 
was  in  a  disordered  heart  asserted  itself, 
because  she  had  omitted  to  allow  for  it,  not 
knowing  it  was  there.  Worse  things  asserted 
themselves  too,  such  as  the  very  solid  attrac- 
tions of  the  position  which  might  have  been 
hers ;  to  these  she  could  not  help  being  fully 
alive,  though  this  was  one  more  reason  why 
she  hated  herself.  Her  first  judgment  on  her- 
self, if  a  mere  reaction  at  the  beginning, 
became  ratified  and  hardened  as  time  went  on. 
She  became  what  she  had  never  been  before, 
even  when  notoriety  had  made  her  reckless — 
an  introspective  girl.  And  that  made  her 
twisty  and  queer  and  unaccountable  ;  for,  to 
be  introspective  with  equanimity,  you  must 
have  a  bluff  belief  in  yourself,  which  is  not 
necessarily  conceit,  but  Tiny  was  not  blessed 
with  it. 

"  She  has  lost  her  sense  of  fun — that's  the 


252  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

worst  part  of  the  whole  business  !"  exclaimed 
Erskine,  one  night  when  Christina  had  gone 
early  to  bed,  as  she  always  would  now.  "  She 
has  ceased  to  be  amusing  or  easily  amused. 
The  empty  town  is  boring  her  to  the  bone, 
and  if  I  don't  fix  up  our  Lisbon  trip  we  shall 
have  her  wanting  to  go  back  to  Australia. 
However,  I  am  bound  to  be  in  Lisbon  by  the 
end  of  next  month,  and  I'm  keener  than  ever 
on  having  you  two  with  me,  I  know  the 
ropes  out  there,  and  I  could  promise  you  both 
a  good  time — but  that  depends  on  Tiny.  Let 
us  hope  the  bay  will  blow  the  cobwebs  out  of 
her  head  ;  she  wasn't  made  to  be  sentimental. 
I  only  wish  I  could  get  her  to  jeer  at  things 
as  she  used  before  we  went  to  Essingham  and 
while  we  were  there  ! " 

"  Don't  you  think  it's  rather  a  good  thing 
she  has  dropped  that?"  Ruth  asked.  ''She 
had  no  respect  for  anything  in  those  days." 

"  And  her  humor  saved  her !  Pray  what 
does  she  respect  now?" 

"  Two  or  three  people  that  I  know  of — my 
lord  and  master  for  one,  and  another  person 
who  is  only  a  lord." 

"  Look  here,  Ruth,  I  don't  believe  it,"  cried 
Erskine,  who  by  this  time  was  pacing  his  study 


THE  INVISIBLE  IDEAL.  253 

floor.  "  Why,  she  hasn't  set  eyes  on  him 
since  the  day  she  refused  him — with  varia- 
tions. 

"  I  know — but  she's  had  time  to  reflect." 

"  Then  I  hope  and  pray  she  may  never  have 
the  opportunity  to  recant !" 

"  Well,  I  won't  deny  that  I  hope  differ- 
ently," replied  Ruth  quietly ;  "  but  I've  no 
reason  to  suppose  there's  any  chance  of  it ; 
and  whatever  happens,  Erskine,  you  needn't 
be  afraid  of  my — of  my  meddling  any  more." 

"  My  dear  girl,  I  know  that,"  said  he  cor- 
dially enough  ;  "  but  of  course  you  tell  her 
you're  sorry  for  this,  and  you  wish  that.  It's 
only  natural  that  you  should." 

"  Ah,  I  daren't  say  as  much  to  her  as  you 
think,"  said  Ruth,  with  a  nod  and  a  smile,  for 
she  was  glad  to  know  more  than  he  did,  here 
and  there.  "  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  me  ;  I 
have  little  enouo-h  influence  over  her.  She 
has  only  once  opened  her  heart  to  me — once, 
and  that's  all." 

Which  was  perfectly  true,  at  the  time. 

But  a  few  days  later  the  restless  girl  was 
seized  with  a  sudden  desire  to  spend  her 
money  (which  is  really  a  good  thing  to  do 
when  you  are  troubled,  if,  like  Christina,  you 


254  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

have  the  money  to  spend),  and  as  her  most 
irregular  desires  were  sure  to  be  gratified  by 
Ruth  when  they  were  not  quite  impossible,  this 
whim  was  immediately  indulged.  It  was  rather 
late  in  the  afternoon,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  afternoon  was  extremely  fine ;  and  it  was 
a  Thursday,  when  men  stay  late  in  Lombard 
Street  on.  account  of  next  day's  outward  mails. 
Consequently  there  was  no  occasion  for  hurry  ; 
and  so  fascinated  was  Christina  with  the  attrac- 
tions and  temptations  of  several  well-known 
establishments,  and  last,  as  well  as  most  of 
all,  with  those  of  the  stores,  that  it  was  golden 
evening  before  they  breathed  again  the  com- 
paratively fresh  air  of  Victoria  Street.  It  was 
like  Christina  to  wish,  at  that  hour,  to  walk 
home,  and  "  through  as  many  parks  as  possi- 
ble " ;  it  was  even  more  like  her  to  be  extrava- 
gantly delighted  with  the  first  of  these,  and  to 
insist  on  "shouting"  Ruth  a  penny  chair  over- 
looking the  ornamental  water  in  St.  James' 
Park. 

Glad  as  she  was  to  meet  her  sister's  wishes, 
when  she  would  only  express  them,  which  she 
was  doinof  with  inconvenient  freedom  this 
afternoon,  Ruth  did  take  exception  to  the 
penny  chairs.      Her   feeling  was  that  for  the 


THE  INVISIBLE  IDEAL.  255 

two  of  them  to  sit  clo\Yn  solemnly  on  two  of 
those  chairs  was  not  an  entirely  nice  thing  to 
do,  and  certainly  not  a  thing  that  she  would 
care  to  be  seen  doing.  Knowing,  however, 
that  this  w^ould  be  no  argument  with  Tiny,  she 
merely  said  that  it  would  make  them  too  late 
in  getting  home  ;  and  that  happened  to  be 
worse  than  none, 

"  Erskine  said  he  wouldn't  be  home  till 
eight  o'clock  ;  and  he  told  us  not  to  dress,  as 
plain  as  he  could  speak,"  Tiny  reminded  her. 
"  The  other  parks  won't  beat  this  ;  and  you 
shall  not  be  late,  because  I'll  shout  a  hansom, 
too. 

So  Ruth  made  no  more  objections,  though 
she  felt  a  sufficient  number  ;  and  they  sat 
down  with  their  eyes  toward  the  pale  traces  of 
a  gentle,  undemonstrative  September  sunset, 
and  were  silent.  Already  the  lamps  were 
lighted  in  the  Mall,  where  the  trees  were 
tanned  and  tattered  by  the  change  and  fall  of 
the  leaf  ;  at  each  end  of  the  bridge,  too,  the 
lamps  were  lighted,  and  reflected  below  in  pal- 
pitating pillars  of  fire  ;  and  every  moment  all 
the  lights  burnt  brighter.  Eastward  a  bluish 
haze  mellowed  trees  and  ciiimneys,  making 
them  seem  more  distant  than  they  w^ere  ;  the 


256  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

noise  of  the  traffic  seemed  more  distant  still, 
but  it  floated  inward  from  the  four  corners, 
like  the  breaking  of  waves  upon  an  islet ;  and 
here  in  the  midst  of  it  the  stillness  was  strange, 
and  certainly  charming;  only  Tiny  was 
immoderately  charmed.  She  sat  so  long  with- 
out speaking  that  Ruth  leant  back  and  watched 
her  curiously.  Her  face  was  raised  to  the 
pale  pink  sky,  with  wide-opened  eyes  and 
tight-shut  lips,  as  though  the  desires  of  her 
soul  were  written  out  in  the  tinted  haze,  as 
you  may  scratch  with  your  finger  in  the  bloom 
of  a  plum.  She  never  spoke  until  the  next 
quarter  rang  out  from  Westminster  and  was 
lingering  in  the  quiet  air,  when  she  said, 
"  Why  have  we  never  done  this  before, 
Ruth  ?  " 

«  "Well,"  answered  Ruth,  "I  never  did  it 
myself  before  to-day  ;  and  I  must  own  I  think 
it's  rather  an  odd  thing  to  do." 

"  Ah,    well,    heaven    may  be  odd — I   hope 
It  IS  ! 

Ruth  began  to  laugh.    "  My  dear  Tiny,  you 
don't  mean  to  say  you  call  this  heavenly  ?  " 

"  It's  near  enough,"  said  the  young  girl. 

"  But,    my    dear  child,    what    stuff !       The 
couples  keep  it  sufficiently   earthly,  I   should 


THE  INVISIBLE  IDEAL.  257 

say— and  the  smell  of  bad  tobacco,  and  that 
child's  trumpet,  and  the  midges  and  gnats — 
but  principally  '  Arry  and  'Arriet" 

"  Now  I  just  like  to  see  them,"  said  Chris- 
tina, for  once  the  serious  person  of  the  two, 
"  they're  so  awfully  happy." 

"  Awfully,  indeed ! "  cried  Ruth,  with  a 
superior  little  laugh.  "  Very  vulgarly  happy, 
I  should  say!"  And  Tiny  did  not  immedi- 
ately reply,  but  her  eyes  had  fallen  as  far  as 
the  fretwork  of  the  shabby  foliage  in  the 
Mall,  over  which  the  sky  still  glowed  ;  and 
when  she  spoke  her  words  were  the  words  of 
youthful  speculation.  She  seemed,  indeed, 
to  be  thinking  aloud,  and  not  at  all  sure  of  the 
sense  of  her  thoughts. 

"  Very  vulgarly  happy ! "  she  repeated,  so 
long  after  the  words  had  been  spoken  that  it 
took  Ruth  some  moments  to  recall  them. 
"  I  am  trying  to  decide  whether  there  isn't 
something  rather  vulgar  about  all  happiness 
of  that  kind — from  the  highest  to  the  lowest. 
Forgive  me,  dear — I  don't  mean  anything  the 
least  bit  personal — I  find  I  don't  mean  a  word 
I've  said  !  I  wasn't  thinking  of  the  happiness 
itself  so  much,  but  of  the  desire  for  it.  Oh, 
there  must  be   something  better  for  a  girl  to 


258  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

long  for  !  There  is  something,  if  one  only 
knew  what  it  was  ;  but  nobody  has  ever  shown 
me,  for  instance.  Still  there  must  be  some- 
thing between  misery  and  marriage — some- 
thing higher." 

Her  eyes  had  not  fallen,  but  they  shone 
with  tears. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  higher  than  marry- 
ing the  man, you  love,"  said  Ruth  honestly. 

''  Ah,  if  you  love  him  !  There  is  no  need 
{or yoit  to  know  a  higher  happiness,  even  if 
one  were  possible  in  your  case.  But  look  at 
me!" 

''You 'must  marry,  too,"  said  Ruth  with 
facility. 

"  As  I  probably  shall  ;  but  to  be  happy,  as 
you  are  happy,  one  ought  to  be  fond  of  the 
person  first,  as  you  were ;  and — well,  I  don't 
think  I  have  ever  in  my  life  felt  as  you  felt." 

"  Stuff!"  said  Ruth,  but  with  as  much  ten- 
derness as  the  word  would  carry. 

"  I  wish  it  were,"  returned  Christina  sadly ; 
"  it's  the  shameful  truth.  I  have  been  going 
over  things  lately,  and  that's  never  a  very 
cheerful  employment  in  my  case,  but  I  think 
it  has  taught  me  my  own  heart  this  time. 
And  I  know  now  that  I   have  never  cared  for 


THE  INVISIBLE  IDEAL.  259 

anyone  so  much  as  for  myself — much  less  for 
Lord  Manister !  If  I  had  ever  really  cared 
for  him  I  couldn't  have  treated  him  as  I  have 
done — no,  not  if  he  had  behaved  fifty  times 
worse  in  the  beginning.  I  was  flattered  by 
him,  but  I  think  I  liked  him,  though  I  know  I 
was  dazzled  by — the  different  things.  I  would 
have  married  him  ;  I  never  loved  him — nor 
any  of  the  others  ! " 

"  Ah,  well,  Tiny,  I  am  quite  sure  he  loves 
you." 

"  Not  very  deeply,  I  hope ;  I  can't  alto- 
gether believe  in  him,  and  I  don't  much  want 
to.  It  is  bad  enough  to  have  one  of  them  in 
deadly  earnest,"  added  Christina  after  a  pause, 
but  with  a  laugh. 

"Is  one  of  them — I  mean  another  one?" 
asked  Ruth,  correcting  herself  quickly. 

Tiny  nodded.  She  would  not  say  who  it 
was.  "  I  don't  care  for  him  either — not 
enough,"  she,  however,  vouchsafed. 

"  Then  you  don't  think  of  marrying  him, 
I  hope  ?" 

"  No,  not  the  man  I  mean  " — she  shook  her 
head  sadly  at  trees  and  sky — "  I  like  him  too 
much  to  marry  him  unless  I  loved  him.  Only 
if  anyone  else  asked  me — someone   I    didn't 


26o  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

perhaps  care  a  scrap  for — I  don't  know  what 
mightn't  happen.  I  feel  so  reckless  some- 
times, and  so  sick  of  everything !  This  comes 
of  having  played  at  it  so  often  that  one  is 
incapable  of  the  real  thing;  more  than  all,  it 
comes  of  growing  up  with  no  higher  ideal  than 
a  happy  marriage.  And  there  must  be  some- 
thing so  much  nobler — if  one  only  knew 
what !" 

Very  wistfully  her  eyes  wandered  over  the 
fading  sky.  The  thin,  floating  clouds,  fast 
disappearing  in  the  darkness,  were  not  less 
vague  than  her  desires,  and  not  more  lofty. 
Her  soul  was  tugging  at  a  chain  that  had  been 
too  seldom  taut. 

"  I  know  of  nothing — unless  you're  a  blue- 
stocking," suggested  poor  Ruth,  "  or  go  in  for 
Woman's  Rights  !" 

Then  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  place 
came  suddenly  home  to  Christina,  and  her 
eyes  fell.  A  child  rattled  by  with  an  iron 
hoop.  A  pleasure  boat,  villainously  rowed, 
passed  with  hoarse  shouts  through  the  pillar 
of  fire  below  the  bridore  and  left  it  writhino-. 
Her  eyes  as  she  lowered  them  were  greeted 
with  the  smarting  smoke  of  a  cigar,  and  her 
nostrils  with  the  smell   that  priced  it.      The 


THE  INVISIBLE   IDEAL.  261 

smoker  took  a  neighboring  chair,  or  rather 
two,  for  he  was  not  without  his  companion. 

Christina  was  the  first  to  rise. 

"  I  have  been  talking  utter  nonsense  to  you, 
Ruth,"  she  whispered  as  they  walked  away  ; 
"  but  it  was  kind  of  you  to  let  me  go  on  and 
on.  One  has  sometimes  to  say  a  lot  more 
than  one  means  to  get  out  a  little  that  one 
does  mean  ;  you  must  try  to  separate  the  little 
from  the  lot.  I've  been  talking  on  tiptoe — it 
was  good  of  you  not  to  push  me  over !  " 

They  crossed  the  bridge,  throbbing  beneath 
the  tread  of  many  feet ;  in  the  Mall,  under 
the  half-clothed  trees,  they  hailed  a  hansom, 
and  Ruth  orreeted  her  reflection  in  the  side 
mirror  with  a  sifjh  of  relief. 

"  We  should  never  have  done  this  if  we 
hadn't  been  Australians,"  she  remarked,  as 
though  exceedingly  ashamed  of  what  they  had 
done,  as  indeed  she  was. 

"  Then  that's  one  more  good  reason  for 
thankingr  Heaven  we  are  Australians!" 
answered  Tin)-,  with  some  of  her  old  spirit. 
"  You  may  think  differently,  Ruth,  but  for  my 
part  that's  the  one  point  on  which  I  have  still 
some  lingering  shreds  of  pride." 

And  that  was  how  Tiny  Luttrell  opened  her 


262  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

heart  a  second  time  to  Ruth,  her  sister,  who 
was  of  less  comfort  to  her  even  than  before, 
because  now  her  open  heart  was  also  the  cradle 
of  a  wakinor  soul.      More  thino^s  than  one  need 

o  o 

name,  for  they  must  be  obvious,  had  of  late 
worked  together  toward  this  av/akening,  until 
now  the  soul  tossed  and  struggled  v/ithin  a 
frivolous  heart,  and  its  cries  were  imperious, 
though  ever  inarticulate.  To  Ruth  they  were 
but  faint  echoes  of  the  unintelligible  ;  scarce 
hearing,  she  was  contented  not  to  try  to  under- 
stand. When  Tiny  said  she  had  been  "  talk- 
ing on  tiptoe,"  to  Ruth's  mind  that  merely 
expressed  a  queer  mood  queerly.  She  did 
not  see  how  accurately  it  figured  the  young  soul 
straining  upward  ;  indeed  the  accuracy  was  un- 
conscious, and  Christina  herself  did  not  see  this. 
Queer  as  it  may  have  been,  her  mood  had 
made  for  nobility,  and  was,  therefore,  memo- 
rable among  the  follies  and  worse  of  which, 
unhappily,  she  was  still  in  the  thick.  It  passed 
from  her  not  to  return,  yet  to  lodge,  perhaps, 
where  all  that  is  good  in  our  lives  and  hearts 
must  surely  gather  and  remain  until  the  spirit 
itself  goes  to  complete  and  to  inhabit  a  new 
temple,  and  we  stand  built  afresh  in  the  better 
image  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FOREIGN    SOIL. 

There  is  in  Cintra  a  good  specimen  of  the 
purely  Portuguese  hotel,  which  is  worth  a  trial 
if  you  can  speak  the  language  of  the  country 
and  eat  its  meats  ;  if  you  want  to  feel  as  much 
abroad  as  you  are,  this  is  the  spot  to  promote 
that  sensation.  The  whole  concern  is  engag- 
ingly indigenous.  They  will  give  you  a  dinner 
of  which  every  course  (there  must  be  nearly 
twenty)  has  the  twofold  charm  of  novelty  and 
mystery  combined  ;  and  you  shall  dine  in  a 
room  where  it  is  safe,  if  unsportsmanlike,  to 
criticise  aloud  your  fellow-diners,  when  their 
wa^'s  are  most  notably  not  your  ways.  Then, 
after  dinner,  you  may  make  music  in  a  pleas- 
ant drawing  room  or  saunter  in  the  quaint 
garden  behind  the  hotel  ;  only  remember  that 
the  garden  has  a  view  which  is  necessarily  lost 
at  night. 

The  view  is  good,  and   it  improves    as  the 

263 


264  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

day  wears  on  by  reason  of  the  beetling  crag 
that  stands  between  Cintra  and  the  morning 
sun.  So  close  is  this  crag  to  the  town,  and  so 
sheer,  that  at  dawn  it  looms  the  highest  moun- 
tain on  earth  ;  but  with  the  afternoon  sunlight 
streaming  on  its  face  you  see  it  for  what  it  is, 
and  there  is  much  in  the  sight  to  satisfy  the 
eye.  Halfway  up  the  vast  wall  is  forested 
with  fir  trees  picked  out  with  bright  villas  and 
streaked  with  the  white  lines  of  ascending 
roads.  The  upper  portion  is  of  granite, 
rugged  and  bare  and  iron  gray.  The  topmost 
angle  is  surmounted  by  square  towers  and 
battlements  that  seem  a  part  of  the  peak,  as 
indeed  they  are,  since  the  Moors  who  made 
them  hewed  the  stones  from  the  spot ;  and 
the  serrated  crest  notches  the  sky  like  a  crown 
on  a  hoary  head.  Finer  effects  may  recur 
very  readily  to  the  traveled  eye,  but  to  one 
too  used  to  flat  regions  this  is  fine  enough  : 
thus  Tiny  Luttrell  was  in  love  with  Cintra 
from  the  moment  when  she  and  Ruth  and 
Erskine  first  set  foot  in  the  garden  of  the 
Portuguese  hotel,  and  let  their  eyes  climb  up 
the  sunlit  face  of  the  rock. 

They  were  a  merrier  party  now  than  when 
leaving   Plymouth.      Tliey   had   left   fog  and 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  265 

damp  behind  them  (it  was  near  the  end  of 
October),  and  steamed  back  to  summer  in  a 
couple  of  days  ;  and  that  alone  was  inspiriting. 
Then  they  had  already  stayed  a  day  or  two  in 
Lisbon,  where  Erskine  had  spent  as  many 
years  when  Ruth  was  an  infant  at  the  other 
end  of  the  world,  so  that  he  was  naturally 
a  good  guide.  There,  too,  Ruth  and  Tiny 
made  some  friends,  being  charmingly  treated 
by  people  with  whom  they  were  unable  to  con- 
verse, while  Erskine  attended  to  the  business 
matter  which  had  brought  him  over.  The 
girls  were  not  sorry  to  hear  that  this  matter 
was  hanging  fire,  as  such  matters  have  a  way 
of  doing  in  Lisbon,  for  they  were  enjoying 
themselves  thoroughly.  Ruth  felt  prouder 
than  ever  of  her  big  husband  when  she  saw  him 
among  his  Portuguese  friends,  and  she  thought 
him  very  clever  to  speak  their  language  so 
fluently.  As  for  Tiny,  she  seemed  herself 
again  ;  she  was  willing  to  be  amused,  and 
luckily  there  was  much  to  amuse  her.  Much, 
on  the  other  hand,  she  could  seriously  admire, 
and  her  high  opinion  of  Portugal  was  itself 
amusing  after  the  fault  she  had  found  with 
another  country  ;  she  even  made  comparisons 
between    the    two,    which    gave    considerable 


266  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

pleasure  when  translated  by  Erskine.  Cintra 
pleased  her  most,  however.  She  delighted 
in  the  hotel,  where  there  were  no  English 
tongues  but  their  own  ;  she  even  pretended  to 
enjoy  the  dinner.  So  Erskine  felt  proud  of 
his  choice  of  quarters;  only  he  missed  his 
English  paper,  and  had  to  go  to  the  English 
hotel  and  purchase  unnecessary  refreshment 
on  the  chance  of  a  glimpse  of  one.  Your  m^an- 
Briton  abroad  is  miserable  without  that.  It  is 
a  male  weakness  entirely.  Holland  took  with 
him  on  that  pilgrimage  no  sympathy  from  the 
ladies,  who  only  derided  him  when  he  came 
back  confessing  that  he  had  thrown  his  money 
away,  as  some  other  fellow  was  staying  at  the 
English  inn  and  reading  the  paper  in  his 
room. 

"  But  I'm  very  sorry  there's  another  Eng- 
lishman in  the  place,"  announced  Christina  ; 
"  though  I  suppose  one  ought  to  be  thankful 
he  didn't  choose  our  hotel.  It  is  something 
like  being  abroad,  staying  here  ;  one  more 
Englishman  would  have  spoilt  the  fun." 

"  When  you  see  the  steeds  I've  ordered  for 
the  morning,"  ^aid  Erskine,  with  a  laugh, 
"you'll  feel  more  abroad  than  ever." 

And   they   did,  indeed,    when  the   morning 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  267 

came  ;  for  their  steeds  were  three  small  asses 
in  charge  of  a  dark-eyed  child  who  was  whack- 
ing them  for  his  amusement  while  he  smoked 
a  cigarette.  A  small  but  picturesque  crowd 
had  collected  in  the  street  to  see  the  start,  and 
were  greatly  entertained  by  the  spectacle  of 
the  Senhor  Inglez  (a  giant  among  them) 
astride  a  donkey  little  taller  than  a  big  dog. 
Interest  was  also  shown  in  the  camera  legs, 
which  Erskine  carried  like  a  lance  in  rest, 
while  the  camera  itself  was  nursed  by  Chris- 
tina, who  had  spoilt  a  power  of  plates  in  Lis- 
bon without  becominor  discouraged.  The 
small  boy  threw  away  his  cigarette,  and  hav- 
ing asked  Erskine  for  another,  which  was 
sternly  denied  him,  smote  each  donkey  in  turn 
and  set  the  cavalcade  in  motion. 

They  passed  the  palace  in  the  little  market 
place,  and  were  unable  to  admire  it ;  they 
passed  the  loathly  prison,  which  is  the  worst 
feature  of  Cintra,  and  were  duly  abused  by  the 
prisoners  at  the  barred  windows  ;  they  were 
glad  to  reach  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and  to 
begin  their  ascent  of  the  rock  up  which  their 
eyes  had  already  climbed.  They  were  to 
devote  the  day  to  the  ruined  Moorish  fort  they 
had  seen  against  the  sky,  and  to  the  Palace  of 


268  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Pena,  which  stands  on  a  peak  hidden  from  the 
town  ;  and  Erskine,  who  was  confident  that 
they  were  all  going  to  enjoy  themselves  very 
particularly,  declared  that  the  day  was  only 
worthy  of  the  cause.  There  was  not  a  cloud 
in  the  sky,  and  the  weather  was  just  warm 
enough  for  the  work  in  hand.  As  the  donkeys 
wended  their  way  up  the  steep  roads,  Mr. 
Holland  was  advised  to  get  off  and  carry  his 
carrier  ;  but  he  knew  the  Cintra  donkey  of  old, 
and  sat  ignobly  still.  He  also  knew  the  Cin- 
tra donkey  boy,  and  aired  his  Portuguese 
upon  the  attendant  imp,  who  passed  on  the 
way,  and  greeted  with  jeers,  a  professional 
friend  waiting  with  only  one  donkey  in  front 
of  a  pretty  house  overlooking  the  road. 

"  Ah,"  said  Erskine,  ''  that's  the  English 
hotel  ;  and  no  doubt  that  moke  is  for  the 
opposition  Senhor  Inglez — whose  name  is 
Jackson." 

"Then  pray  let  us  push  on,"  cried  Christina 
anxiously.  "  Do  you  suppose  he  is  coming 
our  way,  Erskine  ?  " 

"  Most  probably,  to  begin  with ;  but  he 
may  turn  off  for  Monserrat  or  the  cork  con- 
vent." 

"  Let  us  hope  so.     If  he  should  pass  us, 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  269 

Erskine,  just  talk  Portuguese  to  us  as  loud  as 
ever  you  can  !  " 

"  Far  better  to  hurry  up  and  not  be  over- 
taken," added  Ruth,  who  was  thinking  of  her 
appearance,  with  which  she  was  far  from 
satisfied. 

Accordingly  the  imp  (with  whose  good 
looks  Christina  had  already  expressed  herself 
as  enamored)  was  employed  for  some  moments 
at  his  favorite  occupation.  But  for  the  pur- 
suing Englishman,  however,  Tiny,  instead  of 
leading  the  way  upward,  would  have  dis- 
mounted more  than  once  to  set  up  her  cam- 
era ;  for  low  parapets  were  continually  on 
their  left,  high  w^alls  on  their  right ;  and 
wherever  there  was  a  gap  in  the  fir  trees  grow- 
ing below  the  parapets,  a  fresh  view  was  pre- 
sented of  the  town  below.  First  it  was  a 
bird's-eye  view  of  the  palace,  seen  to  better 
advantaore  throuo^h  the  trees  of  the  Rua  de 
Duque  Saldanha  than  before,  from  the  street ; 
then  a  fair  impression  of  the  town  as  a  whole, 
with  its  gay  gardens  and  cheap  looking  stuc- 
coed houses  ;  and  then  successive  editions  of 
Cintra,  each  one  smaller  than  the  last,  and 
each  with  a  wider  tract  of  undulatino-  brown 
land  beyond,  and  a  broader  band  of  ocean  at 


270  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  horizon.  Then  they  phmged  into  moun- 
tain gorges  ;  there  were  no  more  distant  views, 
but  mighty  walls  on  either  side,  and  reddening 
foliage  interlacing  overhead,  as  though  v\'oven 
upon  the  strip  of  pure  blue  sky.  And  the 
atmosphere  was  clear  as  distilled  water  in  a 
crystal  vessel ;  but  in  the  shade  the  air  had  a 
sweet  keenness,  an  inspiriting  pungency,  under 
whose  influence  the  enthusiast  of  the  party 
grew  inevitably  eloquent  in  the  praises  of 
Portugal. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  I  like  it ! "  she  said  to 
Erskine,  with  a  color  on  her  cheeks  and  a 
light  in  her  eyes  which  alone  seemed  worth 
the  voyage.  "  I  call  it  a  real  good  country, 
which  has  never  had  justice  done  to  it.  If  I 
could  write  I  would  boom  it.  Of  course  I 
haven't  seen  Italy  or  Switzerland,  nor  yet 
France,  but  I  have  seen  England.  If  I  were 
condemned  to  live  in  Europe  at  all,  I'd  rather 
live  at  this  end  of  it  than  at  }'ours,  Erskine. 
Look  at  the  climate — it's  as  good  as  our  Aus- 
tralian climate,  and  very  like  it — and  this  is  all 
but  November.  You  have  no  such  air  in 
England,  even  in  summer,  but  when  you  think 
of  what  we  left  behind  us  the  other  day,  it's 
ditch    water  unto    wine  compared   with  this. 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  271 

Ah,  what  a  day  it  is,  and  what  a  place,  and 
how  fresh  and  queer  and  un-English  the  whole 
thing  is  ! " 

"  1  am  perhaps  spoiling  it  for  you,"  sug- 
gested Erskine  apologeticall)^  "  by  being  not 
un-English  myself  ?" 

"  No,  Erskine,  it's  only  me  you're  spoiling," 
returned  the  girl  unexpectedly,  and  with  a 
grateful  smile  for  Ruth  as  well.  "  But  I  don't 
know  another  Briton — home  or  colonial — 
who  wouldn't  rather  spoil  the  day  and  the 
place  for  me." 

"That's  a  pity,  because  I  happen  to  smell 
the  blood  of  an  Englishman  at  this  moment — 
at  least  I  hear  his  donkey." 

They  stopped  to  listen,  and  following  hoofs 
were  plainly  audible. 

"  Then  he  hasn't  turned  off  for  the  other 
places  !"  exclaimed  Ruth,  smoothing  her  skirt. 

Erskine  shrugged  his  shoulders  like  a 
native  of  the  country.  "  No,  he  is  evidently 
bound  for  our  port  ;  and  as  the  chances  are 
that  he  is  under  sixteen  stone,  he's  sure  to 
overtake  us.  It  is  I  that  am  keeping  you  all 
back." 

"We  won't  look  round,"  exclaimed  Tiny 
decisively ;    "  and    you    shall    shout  at    us    in 


272  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Portuguese  as  he  comes  up,  and  we'll  say 
'  Sim,  Senhor  !'" 

So  they  kept  their  eyes  most  rigorously  in 
front  of  them  ;  and  such  was  the  authority 
of  Tiny  that  Erskine  was  in  the  midst  of  an 
absurd  speech  in  Portuguese  when  they  were 
overtaken.  That  harangue  was  interrupted 
by  the  voice  of  the  interloping  Englishman  ; 
and  was  never  resumed,  as  the  voice  was  Lord 
Manister's. 

The  meeting  was  plainly  an  embarrassing 
one  for  all  concerned,  but  it  had  at  least  the 
appearance  of  a  very  singular  coincidence  ; 
and  nothing  will  go  further  in  conversation 
than  the  slightest  or  most  commonplace  coin- 
cidence. You  must  be  very  nervous  indeed  if 
you  are  incapable  of  expressing  your  surprise, 
of  which  much  may  be  made,  while  the  little 
bit  of  personal  history  to  follow  need  not 
entail  a  severe  intellectual  effort.  Lord  Man- 
ister  accounted  very  simply,  if  a  little  eagerly, 
for  his  presence  in  Portugal ;  he  went  on  to 
explain  that  he  had  heard  much  of  Cintra,  but 
not,  as  he  was  glad  to  find,  one  word  too 
much.  Personally,  he  was  delighted  and 
charmed.  Was  not  Mrs.  Holland  charmed 
and   delighted?     It   was   at    Ruth's   side  that 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  273 

Lord  Manister  rode  forward,  falling  into  the 
position  very  naturally  indeed. 

Quite  as  naturally  the  other  two  dropped 
behind.  "  So  now  I  suppose  your  day  will  be 
spoilt,  Tiny,"  murmured  Erskine,  with  a  wry 
smile. 

"  The  day  is  doomed — unless  he  has  the 
good  taste  to  see  he  isn't  wanted." 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  let  him  see  that,  even  if 
he  does  bore  you,"  said  Erskine,  who  had  his 
doubts  on  tliis  point.  "  I  don't  think  he's 
looking  very  well,"  he  added  meditatively. 

As  for  Christina,  she  was  staring  fixedly  at 
Lord  Manister's  back  ;  for  once,  however,  his 
excellent  attire  earned  no  gibe  from  her ;  and 
while  she  was  still  seeking:  for  some  more 
convincing  mode  of  parading  her  immutable 
indifference  toward  that  young  man,  a  turn 
in  the  road  brought  them  suddenly  before  the 
gates  of  Pena.  The  four  closed  up  and  rode 
through  the  gates  abreast ;  and,  presently  dis- 
mounting, they  left  their  small  steeds  to  the 
sticks  of  the  Cintra  donkey  boys,  and  walked 
together  up  the  broad,  sloping  path. 

"By  the  Vv'-ay,"  remarked  Holland,  "I 
was  told  there  was  only  one  other  Eng- 
lishman in  Cintra  at  the  moment — a  man  of 


^ 


274  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  name  of  Jackson  ;  have,  you  arrived  this 
morning-  ?" 

"I  am  afraid — I'm  Jackson!"  confessed 
Manister,  with  a  blush  and  a  noisy  laugh. 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Holland,  laughing 
also  ;  and  he  saw  a  good  deal. 

"  Of  course  you  have  to  do  that  sometimes  ; 
I  can  quite  understand  it,"  Ruth  said  in  a 
sympathetic  voice.  "  Still  I  think  we  must 
call  you  Mr.  Jackson  !  "  she  added  slyly. 

Christina  said  nothing  at  all.  Her  extreme 
silence  and  self-possession  hardly  tended  to 
promote  the  common  comfort  ;  her  only  com- 
ment on  Lord  Manister's  alias  was  a  some- 
what scornful  smile.  As  they  all  pressed 
upward  by  well-kept  paths,  in  the  shadow  of 
tall  fir  trees,  she  kept  assiduously  by  Erskine's 
side.  The  ascent,  however,  was  steep  enough 
to  touch  the  breath,  and  conversation  was  for 
some  minutes  neither  a  pleasure  nor  a  neces- 
sity. Then,  above  the  firs,  the, palace  of  Pena 
reared  hoary  head  and  granite  shoulders;  for, 
like  the  ruined  fort  visible  from  the  town 
below,  the  palace  is  built  upon  the  summit  of 
a  rock.  Still  a  steeper  climb,  and  the  party 
stood  looking  down  upon  the  fir  trees  which 
had  just  shadowed  them,  with   their  backs  to 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  275 

the  palace  walls,  that  seem,  and  often  are,  a 
part  of  the  rugged  peak  itself.  For  this  is  a 
palace  not  only  founded  on  a  rock,  and  on  the 
rock's  topmost  crag,  but  the  foundation  has 
itself  supplied  so  many  features  ready-made 
that  nature  and  the  Moors  may  be  said  to 
have  collaborated  in  its  making.  Three  of 
the  party,  having  taken  breath,  played  catch 
with  this  idea  ;  but  Christina  barely  listened. 
Her  attitude  was  regrettable,  but  not  unnatu- 
ral. In  the  last  place  on  earth  where  she 
would  have  expected  to  meet  anyone  she 
knew,  she  had  met  the  last  person  whom 
she  expected  to  meet  anywhere.  She  remem.- 
bered  telling  him  of  her  mooted  trip  to  Por- 
tugal with  the  Hollands,  she  remembered  also 
his  telling  her  to  be  sure  to  go  to  Cintra  ;  her 
recollection  of  the  conversation  in  question, 
and  of  Lady  Almeric's  conservatory,  where  it 
had  taken  place,  was  sufficiently  clear,  now 
that  she  thought  of  it ;  but  certainly  she  had 
never  thought  of  it  since.  Had  lie  ?  She 
might  have  mentioned  the  time  when  the  trip 
was  likely  to  take  place  ;  she  was  not  so  sure 
of  this,  but  it  seemed  likely ;  and  in  that  case, 
was  a  certain  explanation  of  his  sojourn  in 
Portugal,  other  than  the  explanation  he  had 


276  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

been  so  careful  to  give,  either  preposterous  in 
itself  or  the  mere  suggestion  of  her  own 
vanity  ? 

These  questions  were  now  worrying  Chris- 
tina as  she  had  seldom  been  worried  before, 
even  about  Lord  Manister,  who  had  been 
much  in  her  thoughts  for  many  weeks  past. 
Yet  Manister  was  not  the  only  person  on  her 
mind  at  the  moment.  Just  before  leaving 
London  she  had  experienced  the  fulfillment  of 
a  prophecy,  by  receiving  from  Countess 
Dromard  a  stare  as  stony  as  the  pavement 
they  met  on,  which  was  near  enough  to  Pic- 
cadilly to  inspire  a  superstitious  respect  for 
sibylline  Mrs.  Willoughby.  In  the  disagree- 
able moment  following  Tiny's  thoughts  had 
flown  straight  to  that  lady — indeed  her  only 
remark  at  the  time  had  been  "  Good  old  Mrs. 
Willoughby!"  to  which  Ruth  (who  suffered 
at  Tiny's  side,  and  for  her  part  turned  posi- 
tively faint  with  mortification)  had  been  in  no 
condition  to  reply.  Little  as  she  showed  it, 
however,  Christina  had  felt  the  affront  far 
more  keenly  than  Ruth — chiefly  because  she 
took  it  all  to  herself,  and  was  unable  to  think 
it  utterly  undeserved.  In  any  event  she  felt 
it  now.     It  was  but   the  other  day  that   the 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  277 

countess  had  cut  her.  The  wound  was  still 
tender  ;  the  sight  of  Lord  Manister  scrubbed 
it  cruelly.  And  long  afterward  the  scar  had 
its  own  little  place  among  the  forces  driving 
Christina  in  a  certain  direction,  whether  she 
went  on  feeling  it  or  not. 

Hardly  less  preoccupied  than  herself  was 
the  man  whose  side  Christina  would  not  leave. 
Wherefore,  though  the  place  was  old  ground 
to  him,  as  a  guide  he  was  instructive  rather 
than  amusing.  He  spoke  the  requisite  Por- 
tuguese to  the  janitors,  whose  stock  facts  he 
also  translated  into  intelligible  English  ;  he 
led  the  way  up  the  winding  staircase  of  the 
round  tower,  and  from  the  giddy  gallery  at  the 
top  he  did  not  omit  to  point  out  Torres  Vedras 
and  such  like  landmarks  ;  descending,  he  had 
stock  facts  of  his  own  connected  with  chapel 
and  sacristy,  but  he  failed  to  make  them  inter- 
esting. A  paid  guide  could  not  have  been 
more  perfunctory  in  method,  though  it  is 
certain  that  the  most  entertaining  showman- 
ship would  have  failed  to  entertain  Erskine's 
hearers,  each  one  of  whom  was  more  or  less 
nervous  and  ill  at  ease.  He  himself  was 
thinking  only  of  Christina,  who  would  not 
leave  his  side.     He  saw  her  watching  Lord 


2  78  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Manister ;  though  she  would  hardly  speak  to 
him,  he  saw  pity  in  her  glance.  He  heard 
Lord  Manister  talking  volubly  to  Ruth  ;  he 
did  not  know  about  what,  and  he  wondered  if 
Manister  knew,  himself.  Erskine  did  not 
understand.  The  girl  seemed  to  care,  and  if 
she  did — if  this  thing  was  to  be — he  would 
never  say  another  word  against  it.  If  she 
cared  there  v/ould  not  be  another  word  to  say, 
save  in  joyous  and  loving  congratulation. 
That  was  the  whole  question  :  whether  she 
cared.  For  the  first  time  Erskine  was  not 
sure  ;  It  was  a  toss-up  in  his  mind  whether 
Tiny  was  sure  herself.  Certainly  there  seemed 
to  be  hope  for  the  man  who  was  being  watched 
yet  avoided  ;  however,  Erskine  was  resolved 
to  give  him  the  very  first  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing his  fate. 

Accordingly  he  reminded  Tiny  that  he  had 
been  carrying  the  camera  ever  since  they  had 
dismounted  :  and  was  his  arm  to  ache  for 
nothing  ?  The  suggestion  of  the  square  tower, 
with  the  steps  below,  as  an  admirable  target, 
also  came  from  Erskine.  Lord  Manister 
helped  to  take  the  photograph.  That,  again, 
was  Erskine's  doing ;  and  he  even  did  more. 
When  they  all  turned   their  backs  on    Pena, 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  279 

and  their  faces  to  the  ruin  on  the  opposite 
peak,  it  was  her  husband  who  rode  ahead  with 
Ruth.  His  reward  was  the  smile  of  an  angel 
over  a  lost  soul  saved.  He  returned  the  smile 
cynically.  But  round  the  first  corner  he  bela- 
bored his  ass  w^ith  the  camera  legs,  and  shot 
ahead,  Ruth  gladly  following. 

In  the  hollow  between  the  peaks  the  bridle 
path  passes  an  ancient  and  picturesque 
mosque,  with  a  lime  tree  growing  in  the  cen- 
ter;  from  this  the  ruin  derives  a  roof  in  sum- 
mer, a  carpet  in  winter,  and  had  now  a  little 
of  each. 

"What  a  romantic  place!"  said  Ruth, 
peeping  in.  Her  husband  had  waited  for  her 
to  do  so. 

"  Then  let  us  leave  it  to  more  romantic 
people,"  he  answered,  dropping  the  tripod  in 
the  doorway.  "  They  may  like  to  have  a  pho- 
tograph of  it — for  every  reason  !  You  and  I 
had  better  climb  up  to  the  fort  and  chuck 
stones  into  Cintra  till  they  come." 

This  looked  quite  possible  when  at  last  they 
sat  perched  upon  the  antique  battlements  ; 
they  seemed  so  to  overhang  the  little  town. 
Erskine  lit  a  Portuguese  cigarette,  wdiich  the 
wind  finished  for  him  in  a  minute.    Ruth  kept 


28o  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

a  hand   upon  her  hat.     Then  she  spoke  out, 
with  the  wind  whistHng  between  their  faces. 

"  Erskine,  I  know  what  you  think— ^that  this 
isn't  an  accident  !  " 

"  Of  course  it  isn't." 

"  And  I  dare  say  you  think  /  have  had 
somethingr  to  do  with  it?" 

"Have  you,  I  wonder?  You  may  easily 
have  said  that  we  thought  of  coming  here — 
quite  innocently,  you  know." 

"  Then  I  never  said  so  at  all.  I  thought — 
you  know  what  I  thought 'would  have  hap- 
pened last  August.  Erskine,  I  have  had  abso- 
lutely nothing  to  do  with   it  this  time  !" 

''  My  dear,  you  needn't  say  that.  I  know 
neither  you  nor  Tiny  have  had  anything  to  do 
with  it — so  far  as  you  are  aware;  but  Tiny 
must  have  told  him  we  were  coming  here,  and 
this  is  his  roundabout  dodge  of  seeing  her 
again.  Certainly  that  looks  as  if  he  were  in 
earnest." 

"  1  always  said  he  was." 

"  And  as  for  Tiny,  I  don't  pretend  to  make 
her  out.  You  see,  they  do  not  come.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  at  anything." 

"  No  more  should  I  ;  but  I  should  be  thank- 
ful.    Even  when   T   hid   things  from  you,  Er- 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  28 1 

skine,  I  never  pretended  I  shouldn't  be  thank- 
ful if  this  happened,  did  I  ?  Oh,  and  you'll 
be  thankful,  too,  when  )'ou  see  them  happy — 
as  we  are  happy  ! " 

Holland  sat  for  some  minutes  with  bent 
head,  picking  lichen  from  granite. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  he  said  at  length,  and  ten- 
derly, "  don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about  it.  I 
dare  say  I  have  taken  a  rotten  view  of  it  all 
along.  I  only  thought — that  he  didn't  deserve 
her,  and  that  neither  of  them  could  care 
enough.  It  seems  I  was  more  or  less  wrong; 
but  there  is  nothing  further  to  be  said  until 
we  know," 

He  leant  over  the  battlements,  gazing  down 
into  the  toy  town  below.  Ruth  brooked  his 
silence  for  a  time.     Then  he  heard  her  saying  : 

"  They  are  a  very  long  while.  He's  cer- 
tainly helping  her  to  take  a  photograph." 

"  I  hope  he'll  get  a  negative,"  said  Erskine, 
with  a  laucrh. 

They  came  at  last, 

"  How  long  have  you  been  there,  Erskine  ?" 
shouted  Tiny  from  below.  She  held  one  end 
of  the  tripod,  by  which  Manister  was  tugging 
her  uphill. 

"About  ten  minutes," 


282  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Not  as  much,  Erskine,"  said  Ruth. 

"  We  have  been  photographing  that  charm- 
ing mosque,"  Manister  said,  as  he  set  down  the 
camera  and  wiped  his  forehead;  "you  meant 
us  to,  didn't  you,  Holland?" 

"  Of  course  I  did." 

"And  have  you  got  a  negative?"  asked 
poor  Ruth. 

"A  month  to  make  up  her  mind!"  cried 
Erskine  Holland,  on  hearing  at  second  hand 
what  had  actually  happened  in  the  mosque. 
"  No  wonder  he  wouldn't  stay  and  dine,  and 
no  wonder  he  is  croino^  back  to  Lisbon  to-mor- 
row.  By  Jove !  he  m2ist  be  fond  of  her  to 
stand  it  at  all.     To  go  and  wait  a  month  ! " 

"  He  offered  to  wait  six,"  said  Ruth. 

"Then  he's  a  fool,"  said  Erskine  quietly. 
"Tell  me,  Ruth,  is  it  a  thing  one  may  speak 
about?  One  would  like,  of  course,  to  say 
something  pleasant.  After  all,  it's  very  like 
an  engagement,  and  I  could  at  least  tell  her 
that  I  like  him.  I  did  like  him  to-day.  Under 
the  circumstances  he  bdiaved  capitally  ;  only 
I  do  think  him  a  fool  not  to  have  insisted  on 
her  deciding  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  I  don't  think  I'd  mention  the  matter  unless 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  283 

she  does,"  Ruth  said  doubtfully.  "  She  told 
me  to  tell  you  she  would  rather  not  speak  of 
it  at  present.  You  see  she  has  thought  of  you 
already  !  She  says  you  will  find  her  the  same 
as  ever  if  only  you  will  try  to  look  as  though 
you  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  She 
declares  that  she  means  to  make  the  most  of 
her  time  for  the  next  month  wherever  she  may 
be,  and  she  hopes  you  have  ordered  the  don- 
keys for  to-m.orrow.  Still  she  is  troubled,  and 
if  she  thought  you  didn't  disapprove — if  she 
thought  you  approved — I  can  see  that  it  would 
make  a  difference  to  her.  She  thinks  so  much 
of  your  opinion — only  she  doesn't  want  to 
speak  to  you  herself  about  this  until  it  is  a 
settled  thing.  But  if  you  would  send  her  your 
blessing,  dear,  I  know  she  would  appreciate 
that." 

"  Then  take  it  to  her  by  all  means,"  said 
Erskine,  heartily  enough.  "  Tell  her  I  think 
she  is  very  wise  to  have  left  it  open — you 
needn't  say  what  I  think  of  Manister  for  let- 
ting her  do  so.  But  you  may  say,  if  she  likes 
to  hear  it,  that  I  think  him  a  jolly  good  fellow^ 
who  will  make  her  very  happy  if  she  can  really 
feel  she  cares  for  him.  Tell  her  it  all  hangs 
on  that.      That's  what  we  have   to  impress 


284  IINY  LUTTRELL. 

upon  her,  and  you're  the  proper  person  to  do 
so.  I  only  felt  one  ought  to  say  something 
pleasant.  Wait  a  moment — tell  her  I'll  do  my 
best  to  give  her  a  good  time  until  December 
if  none  of  us  are  ever  to  have  one  again  !" 

Tiny  was  sitting  at  the  dressing  table  in  her 
room,  slowly  and  deliberately  burning  a  pho- 
tograph in  the  flame  of  a  candle.  The  photo- 
graph was  on  a  yellow  mount  which  Ruth 
remembered,  and  as  she  drew  near  Tin}' 
turned  it  face  downward  to  the  flame,  which 
smacked  still  more  of  a  former  occasion. 

"  Tiny ! "  cried  Ruth  in  alarm,  laying  her 
hand  on  the  young  girl's  shoulder.  "What 
on  earth  are  you  burning,  dear?" 

"  My  boats,"  replied  Christina  grimly  ;  and 
turning  the  photograph  over,  the  face  of  Jack 
Swift  was  still  uncharred. 

"  So  you've  carried  his  photograph  with 
you  all  this  time  ?" 

"  He  is  as  good  a  friend  as  I  shall  ever 
have." 

"  Then  why  burn  him  if  he  is  only  a  friend  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  he  would  like  to  be  more  ;  and 
perhaps  there  was  once  a  moment  when  he 
might  have  been.  But  now  I  shall  duly 
marry  Lord  Manister — if  he  has  patience." 


FOREIGN  son.  285 

"  Then  why  keep  poor  Lord  Manister  in 
suspense,  Tiny,  dearest  ?  " 

"  Because  I'm  not  in  love  with  him  ;  and  I 
question  whether  he's  as  much  in  love  with  me 
as  he  imagines — I  told  him  so." 

"  As  it  is,  you  may  find  it  difficult  to  draw 
back." 

"  Exactly ;  so  I  am  burning  my  boats. 
Jack,  my  dear,   that's  the  last  of  you  !  " 

Her  voice  satisfied  Ruth,  who,  however, 
could  see  no  more  of  her  face  than  the  curve 
of  her  cheek,  and  beyond  it  the  blackened 
film  curling  from  the  burning  cardboard. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  HIGH  SEAS. 

"  He's  done  it  at  last!" 

Erskine  brandished  a  letter  as  he  spoke, 
and  then  leant  back  in  his  chair  with  a  i/uffaw 
that  alarmed  the  Portuguese  waiters.  The 
letter  was  from  Herbert  Luttrell,  a  Cambridge 
man  of  one  month's  standing,  of  whose  aca- 
demic outset  too  little  had  been  heard.  His 
sisters  were  anxious  to  know  what  it  was  that 
he  had  done  at  last ;  they  put  this  question  in 
the  same  breath. 

"  Oh,  it  might  be  worse,"  said  Erskine 
cheerfully.  "  He  has  stopped  short  of  mur- 
der!" 

"  We  should  like  to  know  how  far  he  got," 
Tiny  said,  while  Ruth  held  out  an  eager  hand 
for  the  letter. 

"  I  don't  think  you  must  read  it,  my  dear  ; 
but  the  fact  is  he  has  at  last  filled  up  some- 
body's eye  !" 

Tiny  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

ei6 


THE  HIGH  SEAS.  287 


"  Is  he  in  prison?"  asked  Ruth. 

"  No,  not  yet ;  but  I  am  afraid  he  must  be 
in  bad  odor,  though  perhaps  not  with  every- 
body." 

"Whose  was  the  eye?"  Christina  wanted 
to  know. 

"  The  proctor's  !  "  suggested  Ruth. 

"  Not  yet,  again — you  must  give  the  poor 
boy  time,  my  dear.  It  may  be  the  proctor's 
turn  next,  but  at  present  your  Httle  brother 
has  contented  himself  with  fiUing'the  eye  of 
the  man  who  was  coaching  his  college  trials. 
It's  a  time-honored  privilege  of  the  coach  to 
use  free  language  to  his  crew,  and  it  doesn't 
give  offense  as  a  rule  ;  but  it  seems  to  have 
offended  Herbert.  Young  Australia  don't 
like  being  sworn  at,  and  Herbert  admits  that 
he  swore  back  from  his  thwart,  and  said  that 
he  fancied  he  was  as  good  a  man  as  the  coach, 
but  he  hoped  to  find  out  wdien  they  got  to  the 
boathouse.  They  did  find  out ;  and  Herbert 
has  at  last  filled  up  an  old  country  eye ;  and 
for  my  part  I  don't  think  the  less  of  him  for 
doing  so." 

"The  less!"  cried  Tiny,  whose  blue  eyes 
were  alight.  "  /  think  all  the  more  of  him. 
I'm    proud  of  Herbs  !      You  have  too  many 


288  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

of  those  savage  old  customs,  Erskine ;  you 
need  Young  Australia  to  come  and  knock 
them  on  the  head  ! " 

"  Well,  as  long  as  he  doesn't  knock  a  proc- 
tor on  the  head,  as  Ruth  seems  to  fear  !  If 
he  does  that  there's  an  end  of  him,  so  far  as 
Cambridge  is  concerned.  He  tells  me  the 
eye  was  unpopular,  otherwise  I'm  afraid  he 
would  have  had  a  warm  time  of  it  ;  though 
a  quick  fist  and  an  arm  that's  stronger  than  it 
looks  are  wonderful  things  for  winning  the 
respect  of  men,  even  in  these  days." 

"  And  mayn't  we  really  see  the  letter  ? " 
Tiny  said  wistfully. 

Erskine  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I'm  afraid  I  must  treat 
it  as  private.  It's  a  verbatim  report.  I  can  only 
tell  you  that  Herbert  seems  to  have  been  justi- 
fied, more  or  less,  though  he  is  perhaps  too 
modest  to  report  himself  as  fully  as  he  reports 
the  eye.  He  says  nothing  else  of  any  conse- 
quence. He  doesn't  mention  work  of  any 
kind  ;  but  he's  not  there  only,  or  even  pri- 
marily, to  pass  exams.  On  the  whole,  we 
mustn't  fret  about  the  eye,  so  long  as  the  dear 
boy  keeps  his  hands  off  the  authorities." 

Their  hotel  was  no  longer  at  C intra,  but  in 


THE  HIGH  SEAS.  289 

Lisbon,  where  Mr.  Holland  was  being  sadly 
Jt-layed  by  the  busuiess  men  of  the  most  unbusi- 
nesslike capital  in  Europe.  Already  it  was 
the  middle  of  November.  They  had  left 
Cintra  as  long  ago  as  the  5th  of  the  month, 
expecting  to  sail  from  Lisbon  on  the  7th  ;  but 
out  of  his  experience  Erskine  ought  to  have 
known  better.  It  is  true  that  on  landins;  in 
the  country  he  had  attended  first  to  business. 
The  business  was  connected  with  the  forming 
of  a  company  for  certain  operations  on 
Portuguese  territory  in  the  East,  the  capital 
corning  from  London  ;  a  board  was  necessary 
in  both  cities,  and  very  necessary  indeed  were 
certain  negotiations  between  the  London 
directors,  as  represented  by  Erskine  Holland^ 
and  their  colleagfues  in  Lisbon.  The  latter 
had  promised  to  do  much  while  Erskine  was 
at  Cintra,  and  duly  did  nothing  until  he 
returned  ;  knowing  their  kind  of  old,  he  ought 
never  to  have  gone.  He  quite  deserved  to 
have  to  wait  and  worry  and  smoke  niore  Portu- 
guese cigarettes  than  were  either  agreeable 
or  good,  with  the  women  on  his  hands ;  with 
all  his  knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  people 
he  might  have  known  very  w^ell  how  it  would 
be — as    indeed    Erskine  was  told   in  a   letter 


290  riNY  LUTTRELL. 

from  Lombard  Street,  where  an  amusing 
dispatch  of  his  from  Cintra  had  rather  irri- 
tated the  senior  partners. 

Thus  Mr.  Holland  had  his  own  worries 
throughout  this  trip,  but  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
affirm  that  his  sister-in-law  did  not  add  to  them 
after  that  first  day  at  Cintra.  Thenceforward 
she  had  behaved  herself  as  a  perfectly  rational 
and  even  a  contented  being.  She  had  appre- 
ciated the  other  sigrhts  of  Cintra  even  more 
than  Pena  (which  had  hardly  been  given  a 
fair  chance),  and  most  of  all  that  gorgeous 
earden  of  Monserrat,  Vv^here  the  trees  of  the 
world  are  grouped  together,  and  among  them 
the  enni  trees  which  were  so  dear  to  Christina. 
She  had  even  been  overcome  by  a  blood- 
thirsty desire  to  witness  tlie  bullfight  on  the 
Sunday ;  and  Erskine  had  taken  her,  because 
her  present  frame  was  not  one  to  discourage  ; 
but  it  must  be  confessed  that  Tiny  was  disap- 
pointed by  the  tameness  of  this  sport  rather 
than  revolted  by  its  cruelty.  Negatively,  she 
had  been  behaving  better  still  ;  the  Cintra 
donkey,  the  locality  of  the  English  hotel,  and 
other  associations  of  the  first  day  never  once 
perceptibly  affected  either  her  spirits  or  her 
temper.      She    had    shown,   indeed,     so    dead 


THE  HIGH  SEAS.  291 

a  level  of  cheerfulness  and  good  cense  as  to 
seem  almost  uninteresting  after  the  accus- 
tomed undulations  ;  but  in  point  of  fact  she 
had  never  been  more  interesting  to  those  in 
her  secret.  She  had  promised  to  give  Lord 
Manister  his  answer  in  a  month,  and  mean- 
while she  was  displaying  all  the  even  temper  and 
equable  spirits  of  settled  happiness.  She  ate 
healthily,  she  declared  that  she  slept  well,  and 
otherwise  she  was  amazingly  and  consistently 
serene.  That  was  her  perversity,  once  more, 
but  on  this  occasion  her  perversity  admitted 
of  an  obvious  explanation.  The  explanation 
was  that  she  had  never  been  in  doubt  about 
her  decision,  that  in  her  heart  she  was  more 
than  satisfied,  and  that  she  had  asked  for 
a  month's  respite  chiefly  for  freedom's  sake. 
The  matter  was  discussed  no  more  between 
the  sisters,  because  Tiny  refused  to  discuss 
it,  declaring  that  she  had  dismissed  it  from  her 
mind  till  December.  And  to  Erskine  she 
never  once  mentioned  it  while  they  were  in 
Portueal,  nor  had  she  the  least  intention  of 
doing  so  on  the  homeward  voyage,  which  they 
were  able  ultimately  to  make  within  a  week  of 
the  arrival  of  Herbert's  letter. 
'    But  the  voyage  was  rough,  and  Tiny  hap- 


292  TINY  LUT'JRELL. 

pened  to  be  a  remarkably  good  sailor,  which 
made  her  very  tiresome  once  more.  Holland 
had  his  hands  full  in  attending  to  his  wife  in 
the  cabin,  while  keeping  an  eye  on  her  sister, 
v/ho  would  remain  on  deck.  Through  the 
worst  of  the  weather  the  unreasonable  girl 
clung  like  a  limpet  to  the  rail,  staring  seaward 
at  the  misty  horizon,  or  downward  at  the  milky 
wake,  until  her  pale  face  was  red  and  rough 
and  sparkling  with  dried  spray. 

"  I  do  wish  you  would  come  below," 
Erskine  said  to  her,  in  a  tone  of  entreaty, 
toward  dusk  on  the  second  day,  but  by  no 
means  for  the  first  time.  "  There's  not 
another  woman  on  deck  ;  and  you've  chosen 
the  one  spot  of  the  whole  vessel  where  there's 
most  motion." 

Until  he  joined  her  Tiny  had  indeed  been 
the  only  soul  on  the  hurricane  deck,  where  she 
stood,  leaning  on  the  after-rail,  with  eyes  for 
nothing  but  the  steamer's  track.  They  were 
on  the  hem  of  the  bay  and  the  wind  was  ahead, 
so  the  boat  was  pitching ;  and  you  must  be  a 
good  sailor  to  enjoy  leaning  over  the  after-rail 
with  this  motion — but  that  is  what  Christina 
was.  The  wind  welded  her  garments  to  the 
wire    network    underneath,  and   loosened   her 


THE  HIGH  SEAS.  293 

hair,  and  lit  lamps  in  her  ears  ;  but  it  seemed 
that  she  liked  it,  and  that  the  long,  frothy  trail 
had  a  strong  fascination  for  her  ;  for  when  she 
answered,  it  was  without  lifting  her  eyes  from 
the  sea. 

"  You  see,  I  like  being  different  from  other 
people  ;  that's  what  I  go  in  for !  Honestly, 
though,  I  love  being  up  here,  and  I  think  you 
might  let  me  stay.  However,  that's  no  reason 
why  you  should  stay  too — if  it  makes  you  feel 
uncomfortable," 

"  Thanks,  I  think  I  am  proof,"  returned 
Erskine  rather  brusquely,  for  this  is  a  point 
on  which  most  men  are  either  vain  or  sensi- 
tive ;  "but  of  course  I'll  leave  you,  if  you 
prefer  it." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  should  like  you  to  stay," 
Christina  murmured — in  such  a  lonely  little 
voice  that  Erskine  stayed. 

It  was  difficult  to  believe  in  this  young  lady's 
sincerity,  however.  She  not  only  made  no 
further  remark  herself,  but  refused  to  acknowl- 
edge one  of  Erskine's.  Men  do  not  like  that, 
either.  Tiny's  eyes  had  never  been  lifted 
from  the  endless  race  of  white  water,  now 
rising  as  tliough  to  their  feet,  now  sinking 
from  under  them  as  the  steamer  labored  end 


294  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

on  to  the  wind.  Apparently  she  had  forgotten 
that  Erskine  was  there,  as  also  that  she  had 
asked  him  to  remain.  He  was  on  the  point  of 
leavino;  her  to  her  reverie  when  she  swuncj 
round  suddenly,  with  only  one  elbow  on  the 
rail,  and  looked  up  at  him  with  a  pout  that 
turned  slowly  to  a  smile. 

"  Erskine,  you've  come  and  spoilt  every- 
thing !  " 

"  My  dear  child,  I  told  you  I  would  go  if 
you  liked,  you  knovv/'." 

*'  Ah,  that  was  too  late  ;  you'd  spoilt  it  then. 
It  won't  come  back." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  have  broken  some 
spell  ?     If  that's  the  case  I  am  very  sorry." 

"  That  won't  mend  it — you  can't  mend 
spells,"  said  Tiny,  laughing  ruefully.  "  Perhaps 
it's  as  well  you  can't  ;  and  perhaps  it's  a  good 
thing  you  came,"  she  added  more  briskly.  "  I 
had  humbugged  myself  into  thinking  I  Vv^as  on 
my  way  back  to  Australia.     That  was  all." 

"  But  if  I  were  to  go  mightn't  you  humbug 
yourself  again  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  want  to,"  the  girl  answered 
thoughtfully  ;  "at  an}^  rate  I  don't  want  you  to 
go.  Don't  you  think  it's  jolly  up  here  ?  To 
me  it's  as  good  as  a  gallop  up  the  bush — and 


THE  HIGH  SEAS.  295 

I  think  we're  taking  our  fences  splendidly! 
But  it  was  jollier  still  thinking  that  England 
was  over  there,"  nodding  her  head  at  the  wake, 
"and  that  every  five  minutes  or  so  it  was  a 
mile  further  away — instead  of  the  other  thing." 

"  Poor  old  Enoland  !  " 

'*  No,  Erskine,  I  meant  a  mile  nearer  Aus- 
tralia— that  was  the  jolly  feeling,"  Tiny  made 
haste  to  explain.  "You  know  I  didn't  mean 
anything  else — you  know  how  I  have  enjoyed 
being  with  you  and  Ruth.  Only  I  can't  help 
wishing  I  was  on  my  way  back  to  Melbourne 
instead  of  to  Plymouth.  I'd  give  so  much  to 
see  Australia  again." 

"Well,  so  you  will  see  it  again." 

Her  eyes  sped  seaward  as  she  shook  her 
head. 

.   "Why  on  earth   shouldn't  you?"  said   Er- 
skine, laughing. 

"You  know  why." 

Now  he  saw  her  meaning,  and  held  his 
tongue.  This  was  the  subject  on  which  he 
understood  it  to  be  her  desire  that  they  should 
not  speak.  To  himself,  moreover,  it  was  a 
highly  unattractive  topic,  and  he  was  thor- 
oughly glad  to  have  it  ignored  as  it  had  been  ; 
but  if  she  alluded  to  the  matter  herself  that 


290  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

was  another  thing,  and  he  must  say  some- 
thing.    So  he  said : 

"  Is  it  really  so  certain,  Tiny  ?" 

"  On  my  part  absolutely.  I'm  only  climb- 
ing down ! " 

Erskine  was  reminded  of  the  pleasant  things 
he  had  thouofht  of  savins:  to  her  at  Cintra  ; 
they  had  been  by  him  so  long  that  he  found 
himself  saying  them  now  as  though  he  meant 
every  word. 

"  My  congratulations  must  keep  till  the 
proper  time ;  but  when  that  comes  they  may 
surprise  you.  My  dear  girl,  I  should  like  you 
to  understand  that  you're  not  the  only  person 
whose  opinion  has  changed  since  we  were  at 
Essingham.  If  I  may  say  so  at  this  stage  of 
the  proceedings,  and  if  it  is  any  satisfaction  to 
you  to  hear  it,  I  for  one  am  going  to  be  very 
glad  about  this  thing,  I  think  him  such  a  first- 
rate  fellow,  Tiny  ! " 

For  a  moment  Christina  gazed  acutely  at 
her  brother-in-law.  "  I  wonder  if  that's  sin- 
cere?" she  said  reflectively.  Then  her  eyes 
hurried  back  to  the  sea. 

"  I  think  he's  a  very  good  fellow  indeed," 
said  Erskine  with  emphasis. 

The   girl  gave  a    little    laugh,      "  Oh,    he's 


THE  HIGH  SEAS.  297 

all    that ;    the    question     is    whether     that's 
enough." 

"  It  is,  if  he  really  loves  you — as  I  think  he 
must." 

"  Oh,  if  it's  enough  for  him  to  be  in  love  !  " 

There  followed  a  great  pause,  during  which 
the  thought  of  pleasant  things  to  say  was 
thrown  overboard  and  left  far  astern. 

"  I  only  hope,"  Erskine  said  at  last,  with  an 
earnest  ring  in  his  voice  which  was  new  to 
Christina,  "that  you  are  not  going  to  make 
the  greatest  mistake  of  your  life  !" 

"  I  hope  not  also." 

"  Ah,  don't  make  light  of  it ! "  he  cried 
impetuously.  "  If  you  marry  without  love 
you'll  ruin  your  life,  I  don't  care  who  it  is  you 
marry  !  To  marry  for  affection,  or  for  esteem, 
or  for  money — they're  all  equally  bad  ;  there 
is  no  distinction.  Take  affection — for  a  time 
you  might  be  as  happy  as  if  it  were  something 
more  ;  but  remember  that  any  day  you  might 
see  somebody  that  you  could  really  love. 
Then  you  would  know  the  difference,  and  it 
would  embitter  your  whole  existence  with  a 
quiet,  private,  unsuspected  bitterness,  of  which 
you  can  have  no  conception.  And  so  much 
the  worse  if  you  have  married  som.ebody  who 


29»  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

is  honestly  and  sufficiently  fond  of  you.  His 
love  would  cut  you  to  the  heart — because  you 
could  only  pretend  to  return  it — because  your 
whole  existence  would  be  a  living  lie  ! " 

He  was  extremely  unlike  himself.  His  voice 
trembled,  and  in  the  dying  light  his  face  was 
gray.  These  things  made  his  words  impres- 
sive, but  the  girl  did  not  seem  particularly 
impressed.  Had  she  remembered  the  one 
previous  occasion  when  a  similar  conversation 
had  taken  place  between  them,  the  strange- 
ness of  his  manner  must  have  been  driven 
home  to  her  by  contrast ;  but  the  contrast  was 
a  double  one,  and  her  own  share  in  it  kept  her 
from  thinking  of  the  time  when  she  had  been 
serious  and  he  had  not,  and  now,  when  he  was 
more  serious  than  she  had  ever  known  him, 
she  met  him  with  a  frivolous  laugh. 

''Well,  really,  Erskine,  I've  never  heard  you 
so  terribly  in  earnest  before  !  I  think  I  had 
better  not  tell  Ruth  what  you  have  said  ;  my 
dear  man,  you  speak  as  though  you'd  been 
there!" 

It  was  some  time  before  he  laughed. 

"  If  only  you  yourself  would  be  more  in 
earnest,  Tiny !  You  may  say  this  comes 
badly  from  me.     I  know  there  has  been  more 


THE  HIGH   SEAS.  299 

jest  than  earnest  between  me  and  you.  But 
if  I  was  never  serious  in  my  life  before  I  am 
now,  and  I  want  you,  too,  to  take  yourself 
seriously  for  once.  You  see.  Tiny,  I  am  not 
only  an  old  married  man  by  this  time,  but  I 
am  your  European  parent  as  well.  I  am 
entitled  to  play  the  heavy  father,  and  to  give 
you  a  lecture  when  I  think  you  need  one.  My 
dear  child,  I  have  been  in  the  world  about 
twice  as  lonof  as  vou  have,  and  I  know  men 
and  have  heard  of  women  who  have  poisoned 
their  whole  lives  by  marrying  Vv^ith  love  on  the 
other  side  only  ;  and  the  greater  their  worldly 
goods,  the  greater  has  been  their  misery  !    And 

rather  than  see  you  do  as  tliey  have  done " 

The  sentence  snapped.      "  You  shan't  do  it ! 
he  exclaimed  sharply.     "  You're  far  too  good 
to  spoil   yourself  as  others  have  done  and  are 
doing  every  day." 

"Who  told  you  I  was  good?"  inquired 
Christina,  with  a  touch  of  the  coquetry  which 
even  with  him  she  could  not  entireb/  repress. 
"  You  never  had  it  from  me,  most  certainly. 
Let  me  tell  you,  Erskine,  that  I'm  bad — bad — 
bad!  And  if  I  haven't  sliocked  you  suffi- 
ciently already  it  is  evidently  time  that  I  did  ; 
so  you'll  please  to  understand  that  if  I  marry 


300  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Lord  Manister  it  is  partly  because  I  think  I 
owe  it  to  him  ;  otherwise  it's  for  the  main 
chance  purely.  And  I  think  it's  very  unkind  of 
you  to  make  me  confess  all  this,"  she  added 
fretfully.  "  I  never  meant  to  speak  to  you 
about  it  at  all.  Only  I  can't  bear  you  to  think 
me  better  than  I  am." 

Erskine  shook  his  head  sadly, 

"  At  least  you  have  a  better  side  than  this, 
Tiny — this  is  not  you  at  all  !  You  love  and 
admire  all  that  is  honest  and  noble,  and  fresh 
and  free  ;  you  should  give  that  love  and  admi- 
ration a  chance.  But  I'm  not  going  to  say 
any  more  to  worry  you.  If  you  really,  with 
your  eyes  open,  are  going  to  marry  a  man 
v/hom  you  do  not  love,  I  can  only  tell  you  that 
you  will  be  doing  at  best  a  very  cynical  thing. 
And  yet — I  can  understand  it."  This  he 
added  more  to  himself  than  to  the  girl. 

He  was  turning  away,  but  she  laid  a  restrain- 
ing hand  upon  his  arm. 

'*  Don't  go,"  she  exclaimed  Impulsively.  **  I 
can't  let  you  go  when — when  you  understand 
me  better  than  anyone  else  ever  did — and 
when  I  am  never,  never  going  to  speak  to  you 
like  this  afjain." 

"  If  only  I  could  help  you  ! " 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  269 

Erskine,  just  talk  Portuguese  to  us  as  loud  as 
ever  you  can  !  " 

"  Far  better  to  hurry  up  and  not  be  over- 
taken," added  Ruth,  who  was  thinking  of  her 
appearance,  with  which  she  was  far  from 
satisfied. 

Accordingly  the  imp  (with  whose  good 
looks  Christina  had  already  expressed  herself 
as  enamored)  was  employed  for  some  moments 
at  his  favorite  occupation.  But  for  the  pur- 
suing Englishman,  however,  Tiny,  instead  of 
leading  the  way  upward,  would  have  dis- 
mounted more  than  once  to  set  up  her  cam- 
era ;  for  low^  parapets  were  continually  on 
their  left,  high  walls  on  their  right ;  and 
wherever  there  was  a  gap  in  the  fir  trees  grow- 
ing below  the  parapets,  a  fresh  view  was  pre- 
sented of  the  town  below.  First  it  was  a 
bird's-eye  view  of  the  palace,  seen  to  better 
advantage  through  the  trees  of  the  Rua  de 
Duque  Saldanha  than  before,  from  the  street ; 
then  a  fair  impression  of  the  town  as  a  whole, 
with  its  gay  gardens  and  cheap  looking  stuc- 
coed houses  ;  and  then  successive  editions  of 
Cintra,  each  one  smaller  than  the  last,  and 
each  with  a  wider  tract  of  undulating  brown 
land  beyond,  and  a  broader  band  of  ocean  at 


270  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  horizon.  Then  they  phmged  into  moun- 
tain oforcyes  ;  tliere  were  no  more  distant  views, 
but  mighty  waUs  on  either  side,  and  reddening 
fohage  interlacing  overhead,  as  though  woven 
upon  the  strip  of  pure  bhie  sky.  And  the 
atmosphere  was  clear  as  distilled  water  in  a 
crystal  vessel ;  but  in  the  shade  the  air  had  a 
sweet  keenness,  an  inspiriting  pungency,  under 
whose  influence  the  enthusiast  of  the  party 
grew  inevitably  eloquent  in  the  praises  of 
Portugal. 

"  I  can't  tell  vou  how  I  like  it  !"  she  said  to 
Erskine,  with  a  color  on  her  cheeks  and  a 
light  in  her  eyes  which  alone  seemed  worth 
the  voyage.  "  I  call  it  a  real  good  country, 
which  has  never  had  justice  done  to  it.  If  I 
could  write  I  would  boom  it.  Of  course  I 
haven't  seen  Italy  or  Switzerland,  nor  yet 
France,  but  I  have  seen  England.  If  I  were 
condemned  to  live  in  Europe  at  all,  I'd  rather 
live  at  this  end  of  it  than  at  yours,  Erskine. 
Look  at  the  climate — it's  as  good  as  our  Aus- 
tralian climate,  and  very  like  it — and  this  is  all 
but  November.  You  have  no  such  air  in 
England,  even  in  summer,  but  when  you  think 
of  what  we  left  behind  us  the  other  day,  it's 
ditch    water  unto    wine  compared   with  this. 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  271 

Ah,  what  a  day  it  is,  and  what  a  place,  and 
how  fresh  and  queer  and  un-English  the  whole 
thing  is  ! " 

"  I  am  perhaps  spoiling  it  for  you,"  sug- 
gested Erskine  apologeticall)',  "  by  being  not 
un-English  myself  ?" 

"  No,  Erskine,  it's  only  me  you're  spoiling," 
returned  the  girl  unexpectedly,  and  with  a 
grateful  smile  for  Ruth  as  well.  "  But  I  don't 
know  another  Briton — home  or  colonial — 
who  wouldn't  rather  spoil  the  day  and  the 
place  for  me." 

"That's  a  pity,  because  I  happen  to  smell 
the  blood  of  an  Englishman  at  this  moment — 
at  least  I  hear  his  donkey." 

They  stopped  to  listen,  and  following  hoofs 
were  plainly  audible. 

"  Then  he  hasn't  turned  off  for  the  other 
places  !  "  exclaimed  Ruth,  smoothing  her  skirt. 

Erskine  shrugged  his  shoulders  like  a 
native  of  the  country.  "  No,  he  is  evidently 
bound  for  our  port  ;  and  as  the  chances  are 
that  he  is  under  sixteen  stone,  he's  sure  to 
overtake  us.  It  is  I  that  am  keeping  you  all 
back." 

"We  w©n't  look  round,"  exclaimed  Tiny 
decisively ;    "  and    you    shall    shout  at    us    in 


27-  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Portuguese  as   he    comes  up,   and    we'll    say 
'  Sim,  Senhor  !'" 

So  they  kept  their  eyes  most  rigorously  in 
front  of  them  ;  and  such  was  the  authority 
of  Tiny  that  Erskine  was  in  the  midst  of  an 
absurd  speech  in  Portuguese  when  they  were 
overtaken.  That  harangue  was  interrupted 
by  the  voice  of  the  interloping  Englishman  ; 
and  was  never  resumed,  as  the  voice  was  Lord 
Manister's. 

The  meeting  was  plainly  an  embarrassing 
one  for  all  concerned,  but  it  had  at  least  the 
appearance  of  a  very  singular  coincidence  ; 
and  nothing  will  go  further  in  conversation 
than  the  slightest  or  most  commonplace  coin- 
cidence. You  must  be  very  nervous  indeed  if 
you  are  incapable  of  expressing  your  surprise, 
of  which  much  may  be  made,  while  the  little 
bit  of  personal  history  to  follow  need  not 
entail  a  severe  intellectual  effort.  Lord  Man- 
ister  accounted  very  simply,  if  a  little  eagerly, 
for  his  presence  in  Portugal  ;  he  went  on  to 
explain  that  he  had  heard  much  of  Cintra,  but 
not,  as  he  was  glad  to  find,  one  word  too 
much.  Personally,  he  was  delighted  and 
charmed.  Was  not  Mrs.  Holland  charmed 
and   delighted?     It   was   at   Ruth's   side  that 


fOREIGM  SOIL.  273 

Lord  Manister  rode  forward,  falling  into  the 
position  ver)^  naturally  indeed. 

Quite  as  naturally  the  other  two  dropped 
behind.  "  So  now  I  suppose  your  day  will  be 
spoilt,  Tiny,"  murmured  Erskine,  with  a  wry 
smile. 

"  The  day  is  doomed — unless  he  has  the 
good  taste  to  see  he  isn't  wanted." 

*'  Well,  I  wouldn't  let  him  see  that,  even  if 
he  does  bore  you,"  said  Erskine,  who  had  his 
doubts  on  this  point.  "  I  don't  think  he's 
looking  very  well,"  he  added  meditatively. 

As  for  Christina,  she  was  staring  fixedly  at 
Lord  Manister's  back  ;  for  once,  how^ever,  his 
excellent  attire  earned  no  gibe  from  her  ;  and 
while  she  was  still  seeking  for  some  more 
convincing  mode  of  parading  her  immutable 
indifference  toward  that  young  man,  a  turn 
in  the  road  brought  them  suddenly  before  the 
gates  of  Pena.  The  four  closed  up  and  rode 
through  the  gates  abreast ;  and,  presently  dis- 
mounting, they  left  their  small  steeds  to  the 
sticks  of  the  Cintra  donkey  boys,  and  walked 
together  up  the  broad,  sloping  path. 

"By  the  way,"  remarked  Holland,  "I 
was  told  there  was  only  one  other  Eng- 
lishman in  Cintra  at  the  moment — a  man  of 


274  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  name   of  Jackson  ;  have    you  arrived  this 
mornino?" 

"I  am  afraid — I'm  Jackson:"  confessed 
Manister,  with  a  blush  and  a  noisy  laugh. 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Holland,  laughing 
also  ;  and  he  saw  a  good  deal. 

"  Of  course  you  have  to  do  that  sometimes  ; 
I  can  quite  understand  it,"  Ruth  said  in  a 
sympathetic  voice.  "  Still  I  think  we  must 
call  you  Mr.  Jackson  !  "  she  added  slyl}^ 

Christina  said  nothing  at  all.  Her  extreme 
silence  and  self-possession  hardly  tended  to 
promote  the  common  comfort  ;  her  only  com- 
ment on  Lord  Manister's  alias  was  a  some- 
what scornful  smile.  As  they  all  pressed 
upward  by  well-kept  paths,  in  the  shadow  of 
tall  fir  trees,  she  kept  assiduously  by  Erskine's 
side.  The  ascent,  however,  was  steep  enough 
to  touch  the  breath,  and  conversation  was  for 
some  minutes  neither  a  pleasure  nor  a  neces- 
sity. Then,  above  the  firs,  the  palace  of  Pena 
reared  hoary  head  and  granite  shoulders;  for, 
like  the  ruined  fort  visible  from  the  town 
below,  the  palace  is  built  upon  the  summit  of 
a  rock.  Still  a  steeper  climb,  and  the  party 
stood  looking  down  upon  the  fir  trees  which 
had  just  shadowed  them,  with   their  backs  to 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  275 

the  palace  walls,  that  seem,  and  often  are,  a 
part  of  the  rugged  peak  itself.  For  this  is  a 
palace  not  only  founded  on  a  rock,  and  on  the 
rock's  topmost  crag,  but  the  foundation  has 
itself  supplied  so  many  features  ready-made 
that  nature  and  the  Moors  may  be  said  to 
have  collaborated  in  its  making.  Three  of 
the  party,  having  taken  breath,  played  catch 
with  this  idea  ;  but  Christina  barely  listened. 
Her  attitude  v;as  regrettable,  but  not  unnatu- 
ral. In  the  last  place  on  earth  where  she 
would  have  expected  to  meet  anyone  she 
knew,  she  had  met  the  last  person  whom 
she  expected  to  meet  anywhere.  She  remem- 
bered telling  him  of  her  mooted  trip  to  Por- 
tuo:al  with  the  Hollands,  she  remembered  also 
his  telling  her  to  be  sure  to  go  to  Cintra ;  her 
recollection  of  the  conversation  in  question, 
and  of  Lady  Almeric's  conservatory,  where  it 
had  taken  place,  was  sufficiently  clear,  now 
that  she  thought  of  it ;  but  certainly  she  had 
never  thought  of  it  since.  Had  he?  She 
might  have  mentioned  the  time  v.hen  the  trip 
was  likely  lo  take  place  ;  she  was  not  so  sure 
of  this,  but  it  seemed  likely  ;  and  in  that  case, 
was  a  certain  explanation  of  his  sojourn  in 
Portugal,  other  than   the  explanation  he  had 


276  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

been  so  careful  to  give,  either  preposterous  in 
itself  or  the  mere  suggestion  of  her  own 
vanity  ? 

These  questions  were  now  worrying  Chris- 
tina as  she  had  seldom  been  worried  before, 
even  about  Lord  Manister,  who  had  been 
much  in  her  thoughts  for  many  weeks  past. 
Yet  Manister  was  not  the  only  person  on  her 
mind  at  the  moment.  Just  before  leaving 
London  she  had  experienced  the  fulfillment  of 
a  prophecy,  by  receiving  from  Countess 
Dromard  a  stare  as  stony  as  the  pavement 
they  met  on,  which  was  near  enough  to  Pic- 
cadilly to  inspire  a  superstitious  respect  for 
sibylline  Mrs.  Willoughby.  In  the  disagree- 
able moment  following  Tiny's  thoughts  had 
flown  straight  to  that  lady — indeed  her  only 
remark  at  the  time  had  been  "  Good  old  Mrs. 
Willoughby!"  to  which  Ruth  (who  suffered 
at  Tiny's  side,  and  for  her  part  turned  posi- 
tively faint  with  mortification)  had  been  in  no 
condition  to  reply.  Little  as  she  showed  it, 
however,  Christina  had  felt  the  affront  far 
more  keenly  than  Ruth — chiefly  because  she 
took  it  all  to  herself,  and  was  unable  to  think 
it  utterly  undeserved.  In  any  event  she  felt 
it  now.     It  was  but   the  other  day  that    the 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  277 

countess  had  cut  her.  The  wound  was  still 
tender  ;  the  sight  of  Lord  Manister  scrubbed 
it  cruelly.  And  long  afterward  the  scar  had 
its  own  little  place  among  the  forces  driving 
Christina  in  a  certain  direction,  whether  she 
went  on  feeling  it  or  not. 

Hardly  less  preoccupied  than  herself  was 
the  man  whose  side  Christina  would  not  leave. 
Wherefore,  though  the  place  was  old  ground 
to  him,  as  a  guide  he  was  instructive  rather 
than  amusing.  He  spoke  the  requisite  Por- 
tuguese to  the  janitors,  whose  stock  facts  he 
also  translated  into  intelligible  English  ;  he 
led  the  way  up  the  winding  staircase  of  the 
round  tower,  and  from  the  giddy  gallery  at  the 
top  he  did  not  omit  to  point  out  Torres  Vedras 
and  such  like  landmarks  ;  descending,  he  had 
stock  facts  of  his  own  connected  with  chapel 
and  sacristy,  but  he  failed  to  make  them  inter- 
esting. A  paid  guide  could  not  have  been 
more  perfunctory  in  method,  though  it  is 
certain  that  the  most  entertaininof  showman- 
ship  would  have  failed  to  entertain  Erskine's 
hearers,  each  one  of  whom  was  more  or  less 
nervous  and  ill  at  ease.  He  himself  was 
thinking  only  of  Christina,  who  would  not 
leave  his  side.      He  saw   her   watching  Lord 


2  78  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Manister ;  thoug-h  she  would  hardly  speak  to 
him,  he  saw  pity  in  her  glance.  He  heard 
Lord  Manister  talking  volubly  to  Ruth  ;  he 
did  not  know  about  what,  and  he  wondered  if 
Manister  knew,  himself.  Erskine  did  not 
understand.  The  girl  seemed  to  care,  and  if 
she  did — if  this  thing  was  to  be — he  would 
never  say  another  word  against  it.  If  she 
cared  there  would  not  be  another  word  to  say, 
save  in  joyous  and  loving  congratulation. 
That  was  the  whole  question  :  whether  she 
cared.  For  the  first  time  Erskine  was  not 
sure  ;  it  was  a  toss-up  in  his  mind  whether 
Tiny  was  sure  herself.  Certainly  there  seemed 
to  be  hope  for  the  man  who  was  being  watched 
yet  avoided  ;  however,  Erskine  was  resolved 
to  give  him  the  very  first  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing his  fate. 

Accordingly  he  reminded  Tiny  that  he  had 
been  carrying  the  camera  ever  since  they  had 
dismounted  :  and  was  his  arm  to  ache  for 
nothing  ?  The  suggestion  of  the  square  tower, 
with  the  steps  below,  as  an  admirable  target, 
also  came  from  Erskine.  Lord  Manister 
helped  to  take  the  photograph.  That,  again, 
was  Erskine's  doine ;  and  he  even  did  more. 
When  they  all  turned  their  backs  on    Pena, 


FORETGN  SOIL.  279 

and  their  faces  to  the  ruin  on  the  opposite 
peak,  it  was  her  husband  who  rode  ahead  with 
Ruth.  His  reward  was  the  smile  of  an  an^el 
over  a  lost  soul  saved.  He  returned  the  smile 
cynically.  But  round  the  first  corner  he  bela- 
bored his  ass  with  the  camera  legs,  and  shot 
ahead,  Ruth  gladly  following. 

In  the  hollow  between  the  peaks  the  bridle 
path  passes  an  ancient  and  picturesque 
mosque,  with  a  lime  tree  growing  in  the  cen- 
ter;  from  this  the  ruin  derives  a  roof  in  sum- 
mer, a  carpet  in  winter,  and  had  now  a  little 
of  each. 

"  What  a  romantic  place  ! "  said  Ruth, 
peeping  in.  Her  husband  had  waited  for  her 
to  do  so. 

"  Then  let  us  leave  it  to  more  romantic 
people,"  he  answered,  dropping  the  tripod  in 
the  doorway.  "  They  may  like  to  have  a  pho- 
tograph of  it — for  every  reason  !  You  and  I 
had  better  climb  up  to  the  fort  and  chuck 
stones  into  Cintra  till  the}-  come." 

This  looked  quite  possible  when  at  last  they 
sat  perched  upon  the  antique  battlements  ; 
they  seemed  so  to  overhang  the  little  town. 
Erskine  lit  a  Portu.oruese  cicrarette,  which  the 
wind  finished  for  him  in  a  minute.    Ruth  kept 


28o  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

a  hand   upon   her  hat.     Then  she  spoke  out, 
with  the  wind  whistHng  between  their  faces. 

"  Erskine,  I  know  what  you  think — ^that  this 
isn't  an  accident !  " 

"  Of  course  it  isn't." 

"And  I  dare  sa)'  you  think  /  have  had 
something  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"Have  you,  I  wonder?  You  may  easily 
have  said  that  we  thought  of  coming  here — 
quite  innocently,  you  know." 

"  Then  I  never  said  so  at  all.  I  thought — 
you  know  what  I  thought  would  have  hap- 
pened last  August.  Erskine,  I  have  had  abso- 
lutely nothing  to  do  with   it  this  time  !" 

"  My  dear,  you  needn't  say  tliat.  I  know 
neither  you  nor  Tiny  have  had  anything  to  do 
with  it — so  far  as  you  are  aware;  but  Tiny 
must  have  told  him  we  were  cominof  here,  and 
this  is  his  roundabout  dodofe  of  seeing  her 
again.  Certainly  that  looks  as  if  he  were  in 
earnest." 

"  I  always  said  he  was." 

"  And  as  for  Tiny,  I  don't  pretend  to  make 
her  out.  \ou  see,  they  do  not  come.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  at  anything." 

"  No  more  should  I  ;  but  I  should  be  thank- 
ful.     Even  when   T    hid   things  from  you,  Er- 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  28 1 

skine,  I  never  pretended  I  shouldn't  be  thank- 
ful if  this  happened,  did  I  ?  Oh,  and  you'll 
be  thankful,  too,  when  you  see  them  happy — 
as  we  are  happy  ! " 

Holland  sat  for  some  minutes  with  bent 
head,  picking  lichen  from  granite. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  he  said  at  length,  and  ten- 
derly, "  don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about  it.  I 
dare  say  I  have  taken  a  rotten  view  of  it  all 
along.  I  only  thouglit — that  he  didn't  deserve 
her,  and  that  neither  of  them  could  care 
enough.  It  seems  I  was  more  or  less  wrong; 
but  there  is  nothinof  further  to  be  said  until 
we  know." 

He  leant  over  the  battlements,  gazing  down 
into  the  toy  town  below.  Ruth  brooked  his 
silence  for  a  time.     Then  he  heard  her  saying  : 

"They  are  a  very  long  while.  He's  cer- 
tainly helping  her  to  take  a  photograph." 

•"  I  hope  he'll  get  a  negative,"  said  Erskine, 
with  a  laugrh. 

They  came  at  last. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  there,  Erskine  ?" 
shouted  Tiny  from  below.  She  held  one  end 
of  the  tripod,  by  which  Manister  was  tugging 
her  uphill. 

"About  ten  minutes."    ^ 


282  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  Not  as  much,  Erskine,"  said  Ruth. 

*' We  have  been  photographing  that  charm- 
ing mosque,"  Manister  said,  as  he  set  down  the 
camera  and  wiped  his  forehead  ;  "  you  meant 
us  to,  didn't  you,  Holland?" 

"  Of  course  I  did." 

"And  have  you  got  a  negative?"  asked 
poor  Ruth. 

"A  month  to  make  up  her  mind!"  cried 
Erskine  Holland,  on  hearing  at  second  hand 
what  had  actually  happened  in  the  mosque. 
"  No  wonder  he  wouldn't  stay  and  dine,  and 
no  wonder  he  is  going  back  to  Lisbon  to-mor- 
row. By  Jove  !  he  must  be  fond  of  her  to 
stand  it  at  all.     To  go  and  wait  a  month  ! " 

*'  He  offered  to  wait  six,"  said  Ruth. 

"Then  he's  a  fool,"  said  Erskine  quietly. 
"  Tell  me,  Ruth,  is  it  a  thing  one  may  speak 
about  ?  One  would  like,  of  course,  to  say 
something  pleasant.  After  ail,  it's  very  like 
an  engagement,  and  I  could  at  least  tell  her 
that  I  like  him.  I  did  like  him  to-day.  Under 
the  circumstances  he  behaved  capitally  ;  only 
I  do  think  him  a  fool  not  to  have  insisted  on 
her  deciding  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  I  don't  think  I'd  mention  the  matter  unless 


FOREIGN  SOIL.  283 

she  does,"  Ruth  said  doubtfully.  "  She  told 
me  to  tell  you  she  would  rather  not  speak  of 
it  at  present.  You  see  she  has  thought  of  you 
already  !  She  says  you  will  find  her  the  same 
as  ever  if  only  you  will  try  to  look  as  though 
you  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  She 
declares  that  she  means  to  make  the  most  of 
her  time  for  the  next  month  wherever  she  may 
be,  and  she  hopes  you  have  ordered  the  don- 
keys for  to-morrow.  Still  she  is  troubled,  and 
if  she  thought  you  didn't  disapprove — if  she 
thought  you  approved — I  can  see  that  it  would 
make  a  difference  to  her.  She  thinks  so  much 
of  your  opinion — only  she  doesn't  want  to 
speak  to  you  herself  about  this  until  it  is  a 
settled  thing.  But  if  you  would  send  her  your 
blessing,  dear,  I  know  she  would  appreciate 
that." 

"  Then  take  it  to  her  by  all  means,"  said 
Erskine,  heartily  enough.  "  Tell  her  I  think 
she  is  very  wise  to  have  left  it  open — you 
needn't  say  what  I  think  of  Manister  for  let- 
ting her  do  so.  But  you  may  say,  if  she  likes 
to  hear  it,  that  I  think  him  a  jolly  good  fellov/^ 
who  will  make  her  very  liappy  if  she  can  really 
feel  she  cares  for  him.  Tell  her  it  all  hangs 
on  that.      That's  what  we  have   to   impress 


284  'JINY  LUTTRELL. 

upon  her,  and  you're  the  proper  person  to  do 
so.  I  only  feh  one  ought  to  say  something 
pleasant.  Wait  a  moment — tell  her  I'll  do  my 
best  to  give  her  a  good  time  until  December 
if  none  of  us  are  ever  to  have  one  again  ! " 

Tiny  was  sitting  at  the  dressing  table  in  her 
room,  slowly  and  deliberately  burning  a  pho- 
tograph in  the  flame  of  a  candle.  The  photo- 
graph was  on  a  yellow  mount  which  Ruth 
remembered,  and  as  she  drew  near  Tiny 
turned  it  face  downward  to  the  flame,  which 
smacked  still  more  of  a  former  occasion. 

"  Tiny ! "  cried  Ruth  in  alarm,  laying  her 
hand  on  the  young  girl's  shoulder.  "What 
on  earth  are  you  burning,  dear?" 

"  My  boats,"  replied  Christina  grimly  ;  and 
turning  the  photograph  over,  the  face  of  Jack 
Swift  was  still  uncharred, 

"  So  you've  carried  his  photograph  with 
you  all  this  time  ?" 

'*  He  is  as  good  a  friend  as  I  shall  ever 
have." 

"  Then  why  burn  him  if  he  is  only  a  friend  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  he  would  like  to  be  more  ;  and 
perhaps  there  was  once  a  moment  when  he 
might  have  been.  But  now  I  shall  duly 
marry  Lord  Manister — if  he  has  patience." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

counsel's  opinion. 

The  worst  of  it  all  was  this  :  that  the  young 
man  himself  had  not  invariably  that  confidence 
in  his  own  affections  which  displayed  itself  so 
bravely  and  so  convincingly  at  a  psychological 
moment.  Not  that  Manister  was  insincere, 
exactly.  If  you  come  to  think  of  it,  you  may 
deceive  others  with  perfect  innocence,  having 
once  deceived  yourself.  And  this  was  exactly 
what  had  happened. 

There  was  one  distinctive  feature  of  the 
case  :  away  from  Christina  Luttrell  the  poor 
fellow  had  already  had  his  doubts  of  himself ; 
in  her  presence  those  doubts  were  as  certain 
to  evaporate  as  snowflakes  in  the  warmth  of 
the  sun. 

Even  as  he  went  down  Mrs.  Holland's  stairs 
Manister  was  joined  by  certain  invisible  com- 
panions— the  misgivings  that  had  made  their 
escape  as  Christina  entered  the  room.  They 
had  waited  for  him  on  the  landing  outside  the 

317 


3l8  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

door.  They  led  and  followed  him  downstairs. 
They  linked  arms  with  him  in  the  street. 
They  stifled  him  in  his  hansom,  which  they 
boarded  ruthlessly.  In  one  of  the  silent  rooms 
of  the  club  to  which  he  drove  they  talked  to 
him  silently,  sitting  on  the  arms  of  his  saddle- 
back chair  and  aroruinor  all  at  once.  Powerless 
to  shake  them  off  he  was  forced  to  bear  with 
them,  to  hear  what  they  had  to  say,  to  answer 
them  where  he  could. 

Mingling  with  the  importunate  voices  of  his 
inner  consciousness  were  the  remembered 
words  of  the  eii'l-  She  had  asked  him  whether 
he  had  never  burst  out  laughing  as  the  affair 
presented  itself  in  certain  lights  ;  he  did  so  now, 
silently,  it  is  true,  but  with  exceeding  bitter- 
ness. She  had  told  him  that  it  was  not  enough 
that  he  should  feel  willing  to  wait  for  her  when 
they  were  together ;  and  now  that  he  had  left 
her,  though  so  lately,  he  was  certainly  less 
inclined  to  be  patient.  She  had  suggested 
that  he  was  more  fascinated  than  in  love  ;  and 
already  he  knew  that  her  suggestion  had  given 
shape  and  utterance  to  a  vague  suspicion  of 
his  own  soul.  She  had  gone  so  far  as  to  hint 
at  the  possible  secret  of  his  infatuation,  and 
there  again   she   had    hit   the    mark ;  though 


COUNSEL'S  OPINION.  3^9 

apart  from  her  talent  of  torture  her  sweet  looks 
and  charming  ways  had  been  strong  wine  to 
Manister  from  the  first.  Still  her  snubs  had 
piqued  his  passion  in  the  beginning  of  things 
out  in  Melbourne ;  and  here  in  Europe  she 
had  virtually  refused  him  three  times.  Modest 
he  might  be,  and  yet  know  that  this  were 
a  rare  experience  for  such  as  himself  at  the 
hands  of  such  as  Tiny  Luttrell.  On  the  whole, 
the  experience  was  sufficiently  complete  as  it 
stood  ;  yet  he  could  not  help  wishing  to  win  ; 
indeed,  he  had  gone  too  far  to  draw  back,  and 
for  that  reason  alone  the  idea  of  defeat  in  the 
end  was  intolerable  to  him.  And  this  was  the 
one  spring  of  his  actions  which  seemed  to  have 
escaped  Christina's  notice  ;  the  others  she  had 
detected  with  an  acuteness  which  made  him 
wonder,  for  the  first  time,  whether  on  her  very 
merits  she  would  be  a  comfortable  person  to 
live  with,  after  all. 

Gradually,  however,  these  echoes  of  the  late 
interview  grew  fainter  in  his  ears,  and  its  up- 
shot came  home  to  Manister  with  sensations 
of  chagrin  sharper  than  any  he  had  endured 
in  all  his  life  before.  His  feelings  when 
refused  by  this  girl  in  the  previous  August, 
and    under     peculiarly    humiliating     circum- 


32 O  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Stances,  were  enviable  compared  with  his  feel- 
ings now.  Then  he  had  deserved  his  humilia- 
tion— at  least  he  was  generous  enough  to  say 
so — and  he  had  taken  what  he  called  his  pun- 
ishment in  a  very  manly  spirit.  But  the  desire 
to  win  had  sent  him  on  a  secret  mission  to 
Cintra,  on  the  chance  of  seeing  her  there,  and 
his  present  feelings  reminded  him  of  those 
with  which  he  had  beaten  his  retreat  from 
Portugal.  For  he  had  gone  there  for  a  final 
answer,  and  had  come  back  without  one ;  and 
to-day  he  had  suffered  afresh  that  selfsame 
humiliation,  only  in  an  aggravated  form,  and 
more  voluntarily  than  ever.  She  had  never 
asked  him  to  wait ;  he  had  offered  on  both 
occasions  to  wait  six  months — nay,  he  had 
insisted  on  waiting.  Even  now,  within  a 
couple  of  hours  after  the  event,  he  could 
scarcely  credit  his  own  weakness  and  stultifi- 
cation. He  was  by  no  means  so  weak  in 
affairs  wherein  the  affections  played  no  part. 
He  firmly  believed  that  no  other  woman  could 
have  twisted  him  round  her  finger  as  this  one 
had  done.  But  here,  perhaps,  we  have  merely 
the  everyday  spectacle  of  a  young  man  dis- 
cerning exceptional  excuses  for  a  realized 
infirmity ;    and    the    point    is    that    Manister 


COUNSEL'S  OPINIOM.  32 1 

realized  his  weakness  this  evening  as  he  had 
never  done  before.  The  girl  herself  had 
made  him  look  inward.  She  had  suggested 
fascination,  not  love.  That  suggestion  stuck 
painfully.     Yet  he  was  not  sure. 

Never  had  he  felt  so  horribly  unsure  of  him- 
self ;  in  the  midst  of  his  self-distrust  there 
came  to  him,  suddenly,  the  recollection  that 
she  distrusted  him  no  longer,  and  there  was 
actually  some  comfort  in  this  thought,  which 
is  stranee  when  vou  note  its  fellows,  but  due 
less  to  the  contradictoriness  of  human  nature 
than  to  the  supremacy  of  a  young  man's  van- 
ity. He  stood  w^ell  with  her  now.  She 
believed  in  him  at  last.  Propped  up  by 
these  reflections,  he  began  almost  to  believe 
in  himself.  At  least  a  momentary  compla- 
cency was  the  result. 

The  improvement  in  his  spirits  allowed 
Lord  Manister  to  give  heed  to  another  por- 
tion of  his  organism  which  had  for  some  time 
been  inviting  him  to  go  into  another  room  and 
dine.  Now  he  did  so,  with  a  sharp  eye  for 
acquaintances,  whom  he  had  no  desire  to  meet. 
For  this  reason  he  had  driven  to  the  club 
which  he  had  joined  most  recently  ;  it  was  not 
a  young  man's  club,  so  he  felt  fairly  safe  from 


32  2  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

his  friends.  Yet  he  had  hardly  ordered  his 
soup,  and  was  searching  the  wine  Ust  for  the 
choice  brand  which  the  circumstances  seemed 
to  demand,  when  a  heavy  hand  dropped  upon 
his  shoulder,  and  his  glance  leapt  from  the 
wine  list  to  the  last  face  he  expected  or 
wished  to  see — that  of  his  kinsman  Captain 
Dromard. 

Captain  Dromard  was  a  cousin  of  the  pres- 
ent earl,  and  notoriously  the  rolling  stone  of 
his  house.  Manister  had  seen  him  last  in 
Melbourne,  and  ever  since  had  borne  him  a 
grudge  w^hich  he  was  not  likely  to  forget. 
Had  he  dreamt  that  the  captain  (who  had 
been  last  heard  of  in  Borneo)  was  in  London, 
Manister  would  have  shunned  this  club  in 
order  to  avoid  the  risk  of  meeting  him  ;  but 
it  seemed  that  Captain  Dromard  had  landed  in 
England  only  that  morning  :  and  they  dined 
together,  of  course  ;  and  Manister  made  the 
best  of  it.  His  kinsman  was  a  big,  grizzled, 
florid  man,  v;ith  an  imperial,  and  with  a  comic 
wicked  cut  about  him  which  made  one  laugh. 
But  he  retained  an  unpleasant  trick  of  treating 
Manister  as  a  mere  boy  :  for  instance,  he  was 
in  time  to  choose  the  brand,  and,  as  he  said 
before  the  waiter,  to   prevent    Manister  from 


COUNSEL'S  OPINION.  Z^:^ 

poisoning  himself.  He  was,  however,  an 
entertaining  person,  and  at  his  best  to-night, 
being  wont  to  delight  in  London  for  a  day  or 
two  before  realizing  the  infernal  qualities  of 
the  climate  and  arranging  fresh  travels.  But 
INIanister  was  not  entertained ;  he  tried  to 
appear  so,  but  the  captain  saw  through 
the  pretense,  and  immediately  scented  a 
woman.  There  were  reasons  why  the 
rolling  stone  was  particularly  good  at 
detecting  this  element  —  which  always  in- 
terested him.  His  interest  was  unusual  in 
the  present  instance,  owing  to  certain  reminis- 
cences of  Manister  in  Melbourne  during  his 
own  flying  visit  to  that  port.  It  was  during  a 
subsequent  week-end  in  England  that  Captain 
Dromard  had  alarmed  the  countess,  with  a 
result  of  which  he  was  as  yet  unaware  ;  but  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  make  inquiries  now,  and  he 
began  by  asking  Manister  how  he  had  man- 
aged to  get  out  of  the  scrape  in  which  he  had 
left  him. 

"  I    remember    no    scrape,"  said    Manister 

stiffly. 

"  You  don't  ?  Well,  perhaps  I  put  it  too 
strongly,"  conceded  the  captain.  "  We'll  say 
no   more   about   it,  my  boy.     Devilish   pretty 


324  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

little  thing,  though  ;  remember  her  well,  but 
could  never  recall  her  name.  By  the  bye,  I'm 
afraid  I  terrified  your  mother  over  that;  feared 
she  was  going  to  cable  you  home  next  day ; 
was  sorry  I  spoke." 

"So  was  I,"  Manister  said  dryly,  but,  by  an 
effort,  not  forbiddingly,  so  that  the  captain 
saw  no  harmx  in  raising  his  glass. 

"  Well,  here's  to  the  lady's  health,  my  boy, 
whoever  she  was,  and  wherever  she  may  be  !  " 

Manister  smiled  across  his  glass  and  drained 
it  in  silence.  There  was  a  glitter  in  his  young 
eyes  which  made  it  difficult  for  the  captain  to 
drop  the  subject  finally.  Manister  had  been 
drinking  freely,  without  becoming  flushed, 
which  is  another  sign  of  trouble.  The  cap- 
tain could  not  help  saying  confidentially  : 

"You  know,  Harry,  your  mother  was  so 
keen  for  you  to  marry  one  of  old  Acklam's 
daughters.  That's  what  frightened  her.  But 
it  is  to  come  off  some  day,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Can't  say,"  said  Lord  Manister. 

"  It  ought  to,  Harry.  I  like  to  see  a  young 
fellow  with  your  position  marry  properly,  and 
settle  down.  I  don't  know  which  of  the 
Garths  it  is,  but  I've  always  heard  one  of  'em 
was  the  girl  yoil  liked." 


COUNSEL'S  OPINION.  325 

"  Suppose  the  girl  you  like  won't  marry 
you  ? "  Manister  exclaimed,  with  a  sudden 
change  of  manner,  and  in  the  tone  of  one  con- 
sulting an  authority. 

"  Well,  there's  an  endon't." 

"  Ah,  but  suppose  she  can't  make  up  her 
mind  ?  " 

"You  might  give  her  a  month — though  I 
wouldn't." 

"  Suppose  a  month  is  not  enough  for  her?" 

The  captain  stared  ;  his  bronzed  forehead 
became  barred  with  furrows  ;  his  eyes  turned 
stony  with  indignation. 

"  A  month  not  enough  for  her  to  make  up 
her  mind — ^about  you?"  he  said  at  length 
incredulously.  "  Good  God,  sir,  see  her  to  the 
devil  ! " 

Then  Lord  Manister  showed  his  teeth. 
Though  he  had  consulted  the  captain,  he  took 
his  advice  badly.  He  said  you  could  not  be 
much  in  love  to  be  choked  off  so  easily  ;  he 
hinted  that  his  kinsman  had  never  been  much 
in  love.  Captain  Dromard  intimated  in  reply 
that  whether  that  was  the  case  or  not  he  was 
not  without  experience  of  a  sort,  and  he  could 
tell  Harry  that  no  wom.an  under  heaven  was 
worth   kneeling   in  the  mud  to,  which  Harry 


326  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

said  hotly  was  unnecessary  information.  So 
they  went  elsewhere  to  smoke,  and  later  on  to 
a  music  hall,  the  subject  having  been  left  for 
good  in  the  club  coffee  room.  The  following 
afternoon,  however.  Lord  Manister  drove 
through  the  snow  with  a  very  resolute  front  to 
show  to  Tiny  Luttrell,  who  was  just  then  pass- 
ing Deal  in  the  Ballaarat,  without  having 
given  him  the  faintest  notion  yesterday  that 
she  was  to  sail  to-day. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  HONOR    BOUND. 

Aboard  the  Ballaarat  Christina  committed  a 
new  eccentricity,  but  it  maybe  well  to  state  at 
once,  a  perfectly  harmless  one.  She  confided 
in  another  girl — a  practice  which  Tiny  had 
avoided  all  her  life.  And  this  very  girl  had 
offended  her  at  first  sight  by  looking  aggres- 
sively happy  when  the  boat  sailed  and  all  nice 
women  were  in  tears. 

There  had  been  a  time  when  Christina  sel- 
dom cried,  but  in  England  she  had  grown  very 
soft  in  some  ways,  and  she  looked  her  last  at 
it,  and  at  the  snow  that  had  fallen  in  the  night 
as  if  to  please  her,  through  blinding  tears. 
She  had  never  in  her  life  felt  more  acutely 
wretched  than  when  saying  good-by  to  Ruth 
and  Erskine,  and  her  sorrow  was  heightened 
by  the  feeling  that  she  had  been  both  unkind 
and  ungrateful  to  Ruth,  to  whom  she  clung  for 
forofiveness  at  the  last  moment.  The  reason 
why    her  parting   words  were  jocular,  though 

3*7 


328  7'INY  LUTTRELL. 

broken,  was  because  the  sight  of  an  honest, 
smiling  face,  which  might  have  blushed  for 
smiling  then,  sent  a  tieam  of  irritation  through 
her  heart  that  awoke  thelatent  mischief  in  her 
wet  eyes. 

"  I  do  wish  you  would  ask  Erskine  to  throw 
a  snowball  at  that  depressing  person,"  she 
whispered  to  Ruth,  *'  who  does  nothing  but 
laugh  and  look  really  happy  !  If  it  was  only 
put  on  for  the  sake  of  her  friends  I  could 
forgive  her ;  but  it  isn't.  Tell  him  I  mean  it 
— there's  no  fun  in  me  to-day;  and  you  may 
also  tell  him  that  it  would  have  been  only 
brotherly  of  him  to  kiss  me  on  this  occasion, 
when  we  may  all  be  going  to  the  bottom !  " 

Erskine,  who  had  crossed  the  gangway  before 
his  wife,  so  that  she  need  not  feel  that  he  over- 
heard her  final  words  to  her  own  kin,  shook 
his  head  at  Tiny  when  Ruth  joined  him  on  the 
quay.  But  his  smile  was  lifeless  ;  there  was 
no  fun  in  him  either  to-day.  He  drew  his 
wife's  arm  through  his  own,  and  Tiny  saw  the 
last  of  them  standing  together  thus.  They 
stood  in  snow  and  mud,  but  the  railway  shed 
behind  them  was  a  great  sheet  of  unsullied 
whiteness,  softly  edging  the  bright  December 
sky,    and    Christina    never    forgot    her    first 


IN  HONOR  BOUND.  329 

glimpse  of  the  snow  and  her  last  of  Ruth  and 
Erskine.  When  their  figures  were  gone  and 
only  the  snow  was  left  for  Christina's  eyes, 
they  filled  afresh,  and  she  broke  hastily  from 
Herbert,  who  was  himself  uncommonly  de- 
jected. She  hurried  unsteadily  to  her  cabin, 
to  find  her  cabin  companion  singing  softly  to 
herself  as  she  unstrapped  her  rugs  ;  for  her 
cabin  companion  was,  of  course,  the  odiously 
cheerful  person  who  already  on  deck  had  done 
violence  to  Christina's  feelings. 

Thus  the  acquaintance  began  in  a  particu- 
larly unpromising  manner ;  but  the  cheerful 
person  turned  out  to  be  as  bad  a  sailor  as 
Christina  was  a  good  one,  and  she  met  with 
much  practical  kindness  at  Christina's  hands, 
which  had  a  clever,  tender  way  with  them, 
though  in  other  respects  the  good  sailor  was 
not  from  the  first  so  sympathetic.  It  is  harder 
than  it  ought  to  be  to  sympathize  with  the 
seasick  when  one  is  quite  well  one's  self;  still 
Christina  found  it  impossible  not  to  admire 
her  extraordinary  companion,  who  kept  up 
her  spirits  during  a  whole  week  spent  in  her 
berth,  and  was  more  cheerful  than  ever  at  the 
end  of  it,  when  she  could  scarcely  stand. 
Then  Christina  expressed  her  admiration,  like- 


330  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

wise  her  curiosity,  and  received  a  simple 
explanation.  The  cheerful  person  was  on 
her  way  to  Colombo  and  the  altar-rails.  Her 
trotisseau  was  in  the  hold. 

The  two  became  exceeding  fast  friends,  and 
their  friendship  was  founded  on  mutual  envy. 
Tiny  was  envied  for  the  various  qualities  which 
made  her  greatly  admired  on  board,  for  that 
admiration  itself,  and  for  the  marked  manner 
in  which  she  paid  no  heed  to  it ;  and  she  envied 
her  friend  a  very  ordinary  love  story,  now 
approaching  a  very  ordinary  end.  The  cheer- 
ful girl  was  plain,  unaccomplished,  and  not  at 
all  young.  But  there  was  one  whom  she  loved 
better  than  herself ;  she  was  properly  engaged  ; 
she  was  happy  in  her  engagement ;  her  soul 
was  settled  and  at  peace.  Also  she  was  good, 
and  Christina  envied  her  far  more  than  she 
envied  Christina,  who  would  listen  wistfully 
to  the  commonplace  expression  of  a  common- 
place happiness,  but  was  herself  much  more 
reserved.  It  was  only  when  the  other  girl 
guessed  it  that  she  admitted  that  she  also  was 
"  as  good  as  engaged."  The  other  girl  clam- 
ored to  know  all  about  it ;  and  ultimately,  in 
the  Indian  Ocean,  she  discovered  that  Chris- 
tina was  not  the  least  in  love  with  the  man  to 


nV  HONOR  BOUND.  33 1 

whom  she  was  as  p^ood  as  engaged.  Then 
this  honest  person  spoke  her  mind  with 
extreme  freedom,  and  Christina,  instead  of 
being  offended,  opened  her  own  heart  as 
freely,  merel)'  keeping  to  herself  the  man's 
name  and  never  hinting  at  his  high  degree. 
She  declared  that  she  was  morally  bound  to 
him,  adding  that  she  had  treated  him  badly 
enough  already  ;  her  friend  ridiculed  the  bond^ 
and  told  her  how  she  would  be  treating  him 
worse  than  ever.  Christina  argued — it  was 
curious  how  fond  she  was  of  arguing  the 
matter,  and  how  she  allowed  herself  to  be 
lectured  by  a  stranger.  But  these  two  were 
not  strangers  now ;  the  cheerful  girl  was  the 
best  friend  Tiny  had  ever  made  among 
women.  They  parted  with  a  wrench  at 
Colombo,  where  Tiny  saw  the  other  safely 
into  the  arms  of  a  gentleman  of  a  suitably 
happy  and  ordinary  appearance  ;  and  so  one 
more  friend  passed  in  and  out  of  the  young 
girl's  life,  leaving  a  deeper  mark  in  the  three 
weeks  than  either  of  them  suspected. 

The  rest  of  the  voyage  dragged  terribly  with 
Christina,  which  is  an  unusual  experience  for 
the  prettiest  girl  aboard  an  Australian  liner ; 
only  on  this  voyage  the  prettiest  girl  was  also 


332  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

the  most  unsociable.  Beyond  her  late  com- 
panion (whose  berth  remained  empty  to 
depress  Christina  whenever  she  entered  the 
cabin)  Miss  Luttrell  had  formed  few  acquaint- 
ances and  no  friendships  between  London  and 
Colombo  ;  between  Colombo  and  Melbourne 
she  simply  preyed  upon  herself.  Herbert 
remonstrated  with  her,  and  the  third  officer — 
who  had  been  fourth  on  the  boat  in  which 
they  had  come  over — was  excessively  inter- 
ested, remembering  the  difference  six  months 
earlier.  Then,  indeed,  Christina  had  found  a 
good  deal  to  say  to  all  the  officers,  including 
the  captain,  \vhom  she  had  chaffed  notoriously  ; 
but  now  she  would  stay  out  late  and  alone  on 
the  starlit  deck  without  ever  breaking  the 
rules  by  conversing  with  the  officer  of  the 
watch  (her  pet  trick  formerly),  and  only  the 
third,  who  knew  her  of  old,  had  the  right  to 
bid  her  good-day.  Tiny's  cheerful  friend  had 
left  her  wretched  and  apprehensive.  She  saw 
the  Southern  Cross  rise  out  of  the  Southern 
Sea  without  a  thrill  of  welcome,  but  rather  with 
a  vague  dismay  ;  from  the  after-rail  she  said 
good-by  to  the  Great  Bear  with  a  shudder  at 
the  thought  of  seeing  it  again.  Neither  end 
of  the  earth  presented  a  very  peaceful  prospect 


IN  HONOR  BOUND.  333 

to  Christina  as  she  hovered  between  the  two 
on  the  steamer's  deck.  She  had  quite  made 
up  her  mind  to  return  to  England,  however, 
and  to  reward  Lord  Manister's  long-suffering 
docility  by  marrying  him  at  the  end  of  the  six 
months.  Meanwhile  she  would  enjoy  Aus- 
tralia and  tell  only  one  of  her  friends  there. 
One  she  must  tell,  and  with  her  own  lips,  in 
case  she  should  be  misjudged.  And  thinking 
not  a  little  of  her  own  justification,  she  in- 
vehted  a  small  sophistry  with  which  to  defend 
herself  as  occasion  might  arise.  She  argued 
that  two  men  were  in  love  with  her,  that  she 
herself  was  in  love  with  neither,  but  that  she 
liked  one  of  them  too  well  to  marry  him  with- 
out love.  Therefore,  she  said,  the  easiest  way 
out  of  it  was  to  marry  the  other,  who  not  only 
had  less  in  him  to  satisfy,  but  who  had  more 
to  give  in  place  of  real  happiness.  She  was 
proud  of  this  argument.  She  was  sorry  it  had 
not  occurred  to  her  before  stopping  at  Co- 
lombo— forgetting  that  she  had  told  her 
friend  of  only  one  man  who  was  in  love  with 
her.  But  the  heart  starves  on  sophistry  with 
nothing  to  it ;  and  with  Christina  the  voyage 
dragged  cruelly  to  its  end. 

But  the  moment  she  landed  in  Melbourne 


334  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

a  good  thing  happened  to  her — she  was 
snatched  out  of  herself.  A  common  shock 
and  anxiety  awaited  both  Christina  and  Her- 
bert Luttrell  :  they  found  their  mother  in  tears 
over  a  piece  of  very  bad  news  from  Wallan- 
doon.  It  seemed  that  Mr.  Luttrell  had  gone 
up  to  the  station  the  week  before  to  choose 
the  site  for  a  well  which  he  was  about  to  sink 
at  considerable  expense,  and  that  he  was  now 
lying  at  the  old  homestead  with  a  broken  leg, 
the  result  of  a  buggy  accident  with  a  pair  of 
young  horses.  He  was  able  to  write  with  his 
own  hand  in  pencil,  and  he  mentioned  that 
Swift  had  fetched  a  surgeon  from  the  river  in 
the  quickest  time  ever  known  ;  that  the  sur- 
geon had  set  the  leg  quite  successfully,  so  that 
there  was  no  occasion  for  anxiet}',  though  nat- 
urally he  should  be  unable  to  leave  Wallan- 
doon  for  some  weeks.  He  expressed  forcibly 
the  hope  that  his  wife  would  not  think  of  join- 
ing him  there  ;  she  was  not  strong  enough, 
and  he  needed  no  attention.  Nevertheless, 
had  the  Ballaarat  arrived  one  day  later,  Mrs. 
Luttrell  would  have  gone.  Her  two  children 
were  in  time  to  restrain  her,  but  only  by 
undertakinor  to  oo  instead.  Before  they  could 
realize  that  they  had  spent  an  afternoon  and 


IN  HONOR  BOUND.  335 

a  night  in  Melbourne  they  had  left  the  city 
and  had  embarked  on  an  inland  voyage  of  five 
hundred  miles  up  country. 

So  their  first  full  day  ashore  was  spent  in 
a  railway  carriage  ;  but  all  that  night  the  stars 
were  in  their  eyes,  and  the  gum  trees  racing 
by  on  either  hand,  and  the  warm  wind  fanning 
their  faces,  because  Tiny  would  never  travel 
inside  the  coach.  They  were  back  in  Riverina. 
The  Murray  coiled  behind  them  ;  the  Mur- 
rumbidgee  lay  before.  And  the  night  after 
that  they  were  creeping  across  the  desert  of 
the  One  Tree  Plain,  with  the  Lachlan  lying 
ahead  and  the  Murrumbidgee  left  behind. 
Here  the  leather-hung  coach  labored  in  the 
mud,  for  the  Lachlan  district  was  suffering 
before  it  could  profit  from  a  rather  heavy  rain- 
fall three  days  old ;  and  the  driver  flogged 
seven  horses  all  night  long  instead  of  mildly 
chastening  five,  and  the  girl  at  his  side  could 
not  have  slept  if  she  had  tried,  but  she  did  not 
try.  To  her  the  night  seemed  too  good  to 
miss.  The  stars  slione  brilliantly  from  rim  to 
rim  of  the  unbroken  plain,  and  upward  from 
the  overflowing  crab-holes,  and  even  in  the 
flooded  ruts,  where  the  coach  wheels  split  and 
scattered   them  like  quicksilver  beneath    the 


336  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

thumb.  There  was  no  conversation  on  the 
coach.  On  the  eve  of  fachig  his  father  Her- 
bert was  rehearsing  his  defense,  while  Tiny 
was  just  reveHng  in  the  night,  and  feeling  very 
happy,  so  she  said. 

For  a  couple  of  hours  before  dawn  they 
rested  at  Booligal.  But  Booligal  is  notorious 
for  its  mosquitoes,  and  there  had  been  three 
inches  of  rain  there,  so  the  rest  was  a  mockery. 
Tiny  had  a  bed  to  lie  down  on,  but  she  did 
not  lie  long.  She  was  found  by  Herbert  (who 
smoked  six  pipes  in  those  two  hours),  leaning 
against  one  of  the  veranda  posts  as  if  asleep 
on  her  feet,  but  with  eyes  fixed  intently  upon 
a  dull,  reddening  arc  on  the  very  edge  of  the 
darkling  plain. 

"By  the  time  we  get  there,"  said  Herbert 
severely,  "  you'll  be  just  about  dished  !  What 
on  earth  are  you  doing  out  here  instead  of 
taking  a  spell  when  you  can  get  it  ?" 

"  I'm  watching  for  the  sun,"  murmured 
Christina,  without  moving.  "  It's  a  regular 
Australian  dawn  ;  you  never  saw  one  like  it  in 
England.  Here  the  sun  gets  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  night,  and  there  he  very  often  doesn't 
get  up  at  all.  Oh,  but  it's  glorious  to  be  back 
— AoViX, you  think  so,  old  Herbs?" 


IN  HONOR  BOUND.  337 

"  I  might — if  it  wasn't  for  the  grovernor." 

Tiny  fiushed  with  shame.  She  had  forgot- 
ten the  accident.  Being  reminded  of  it  she 
turned  her  back  on  the  sunrise  in  deep  contri- 
tion, but  she  had  not  taken  Herbert's  meaning. 

"  I  funk  facing  him,"  said  he  gloomily.  "  I 
have  nothing  to  say  for  myself,  and  if  I  had 
a  fellow  couldn't  say  it  with  the  poor  governor 
lying  on  his  back." 

"  Poor  old  Herbs  ! "  said  Tiny  kindly.  ''  I 
don't  think  you  have  much  to  fear,  however. 
It  was  our  mistake  in  wanting  you  to  go  to 
Cambridge  when  you'd  been  your  own  boss 
always.  You  were  born  for  the  bush — I'm  not 
sure  that  we  both  weren't !  " 

He  did  not  hear  her  sigh. 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk,  Tiny  ! 
You  haven't  to  make  your  peace  with  anybody 
— you  haven't  to  confess  that  you've  made  a 
ghastly  fool  of  yourself  !  " 

''  Have  I  not?"  exclaimed  the  girl  bitterly. 

"  I  thought  you  weren't  going  to  mention 
his  name  ?"  Herbert  said  in  surprise. 

"  No  more  I  am,"  replied  Tiny,  recovering 
herself.  "  So,  as  you  say,  it  is  all  very  well  for 
me  to  talk."  And  as  she  turned  a  ball  of  fire 
was  balanced  on  the  distant  rim  of  the  plain, 


338  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

and  the  arc  above  was  now  a  semicircle  of 
crimson,  which  blended  even  yet  with  the  lin- 
gering shades  of  night. 

Even  Herbert  was  not  in  all  Tiny's  secrets. 
He  never  dreamt  that  she  had  before  her  an 
ordeal  far  worse  than  his  own.  When  they 
sighted  the  little  township  where  the  station 
buggy  always  met  the  coach,  he  thought  her 
excitement  due  to  obvious  and  natural  causes. 
The  township  roofs  gleamed  in  the  afternoon 
sun  for  half  an  hour  before  one  could  distin- 
guish even  a  looked-for  object,  such  as  a  buggy 
drawn  up  in  the  shade  at  the  hotel  veranda. 
Herbert  had  time  to  become  excited  himself,  in 
spite  of  the  ignoble  circumstances  of  his  return. 

"  I  see  it !  "  he  exclaimed  M'ith  confidence, 
at  five  hundred  yards.  "  And  good  old  Bush- 
man and  Brownlock  are  the  pair.  I'd  spot 
'em  a  mile  off." 

"  Can  you  see  who  it  is  in  the  buggy  ? " 
asked  Tiny,  at  two  hundred.  She  was  sitting 
like  a  mouse  between  Herbert  and  the  driver. 

"  I  shall  in  a  shake  ;  I  think  it's  Jack  Swift." 

He  did  not  know  how  her  heart  was  beating. 
At  fifty  yards  he  said,  "  It  isn't  Swift ;  it's  one 
of  the  hands.   I've  never  seen  this  joker  before." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  Tiny,  and  that  was  all.  Herbert 
had  no  ear  for  a  tone. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A    DEAF    EAR. 

The  manaofer  of  Wallandoon  was  harder  at 
work  that  afternoon  than  any  man  on  the  run. 
This  was  generally  the  case  when  there  was 
hard  work  to  be  done  ;  when  there  was  not, 
however,  Swift  had  a  way  of  making  work  for 
himself.  He  had  made  his  work  to-day. 
Nothing  need  have  prevented  his  meeting  the 
coach  himself  ;  but  it  had  occurred  to  Swift 
that  he  would  be  somewhat  in  the  way  at  the 
meetingr  between  Mr.  Luttrell  and  his  children, 
while  with  regard  to  his  own  meeting  with 
Christina  he  felt  much  nervousness,  which 
night,  perhaps,  would  partly  cloak.  This, 
however,  was  an  instinct  rather  than  a  motive. 
Instinctively  also  he  sought  b)'  violent  labor 
to  expel  the  fever  from  his  mind.  He  was 
absurdly  excited,  and  his  energy  during  the 
heat  of  the  day  was  little  less  than  insane.  So 
at  any  rate  it  seemed  to  the  youth  who  was 
helping  him  by  looking  on,  while  Swift  covered 

339 


340  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

in  half  a  tank  with  brushwood.  The  tank  had 
been  almost  dry,  but  was  newly  filled  by  the 
rains,  and  the  partial  covering  was  designed  to 
delay  evaporation.  But  Swift  himself  would 
execute  his  own  design,  and  thought  nothing 
of  standing  up  to  his  chest  in  the  water, 
clothed  only  in  his  wide-awake,  though  he  was 
the  manager  of  the  station.  The  young  store- 
keeper did  not  admire  him  for  it,  though  he 
could  not  help  envying  the  manager  his  thick 
arms,  which  were  also  bronzed,  like  the  mana- 
ger's face  and  neck,  and  in  striking  contrast 
to  the  whiteness  of  his  deep  chest  and  broad 
shoulders.  There  had  been  a  change  in  store- 
keepers during  recent  months,  a  change  not 
by  any  means  for  the  better. 

Near  the  tank  were  some  brushwood  yards, 
which  were  certainly  in  need  of  repairs,  but  the 
need  was  far  from  immediate.  Swift,  how- 
ever, chose  to  mend  up  the  fences  that  night, 
while  he  happened  to  be  on  the  spot,  and  his 
young  assistant  had  no  choice  but  to  watch 
him.  It  was  dark  when  at  last  they  rode  back 
together  to  the  station,  silent,  hungry,  and  not 
pleased  with  one  another  ;  for  Swift  was  one 
of  those  energetic  people  whom  it  is  difficult 
to  help  unless  you  are  energetic  yourself  ;  and 


A    DEAF  EAR.  341 

the  new  storekeeper  was  not.  This  youth  did 
little  for  his  rations  that  day  until  the  home- 
stead was  reached.  Then  the  manager  left 
him  to  unsaddle  and  feed  both  horses,  and 
himself  walked  over  to  the  veranda,  whence 
came  the  sound  of  voices. 

Mr.  Luttrell  was  lying  in  the  long  deck 
chair  which  had  been  procured  from  a  neigh- 
boring station,  and  Herbert  was  smoking 
demurely  at  his  side.  Christina  was  not  there 
at  all. 

"  You  will  find  her  in  the  dining  room," 
Mr.  Luttrell  said,  as  his  son  and  the  manager 
shook  hands.  "  She  has  gone  to  make  tea  for 
you  ;  she  means  to  look  after  us  all  for  the 
next  few  weeks." 

The  dining  room  was  at  the  back  of  the 
house,  and  as  Swift  walked  round  to  it  he 
stepped  from  the  veranda  into  the  heavy  sand 
in  which  the  homestead  was  planted.  He 
could  not  help  it.  His  love  had  grown  upon 
him  since  that  short  week  with  her,  nine 
months  before.  He  felt  that  if  his  eyes  rested 
upon  her  first  he  could  take  her  hand  more 
steadily.  So  he  stood  and  watched  her  a 
moment  as  she  bent  over  the  tea  table  with 
lowered  head  and  busy  fingers,  and  there  was 


342  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

something  so  like  his  dreams  in  the  sight  of 
her  there  that  he  almost  cried  out  aloud. 
Next  instant  his  spurs  jingled  in  the  veranda. 
She  raised  her  head  with  a  jerk ;  he  saw  the 
fear  of  himself  in  her  eyes — and  knew. 

It  did  not  blind  him  to  her  haggard  looks. 

When  they  had  shaken  hands  he  could  not 
help  saying,  "  It  is  evident  that  the  old 
country  doesn't  agree  v/ith  you,  as  you 
feared."  And  when  it  was  too  late  he  would 
have  altered  the  remark. 

'■  Seeing  that  it's  six  weeks  since  I  left  it, 
and  that  I  have  been  traveling  night  and  day 
since  .1  landed,  you  are  rather  hard  on  the 
old  country." 

So  she  answered  him,  her  fingers  in  the  tea 
caddy,  and  her  eyes  with  them.  The  lamp- 
light shone  upon  her  freckles  as  Swift  studied 
her  anxiously.  Perhaps,  as  she  hinted,  she 
was  only  tired. 

"  I  say,  I  can't  have  you  making  tea  for 
me! "Swift  exclaimed  nervously.  "You  are 
worn  out,  and  I  am  accustomed  to  doing  all 
this  sort  of  thing  for  myself." 

"  Then  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  unac- 
custom  yourself !  I  am  mistress  here  until 
papa  is  fit  to  be  moved." 


A    DEAF  EAR.  343 


And  not  a  day  longer.  He  knew  it  by  the 
way  she  avoided  his  eyes.  Yet  he  was  forced 
to  make   conversation. 

"Why  do  you  warm  the  teapot?" 

"  It  is  the  proper  thing  to  do." 

"  I   never  knew  that ! " 

"  I  dare  say  it  isn't  the  only  thing  you 
never  knew.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  swal- 
lowed your  coffee  with  cold  milk?" 

"  Of  course  we  do — when  we  have  coffee." 

"  Ah,  it  is  good  for  you  to  have  a  house- 
keeper for  a  time,"  said  Christina  cruelly,  she 
did  not  know  why. 

"  It's  my  firm  belief,"  remarked  Swift,  "that 
you  have  learnt  these  dodges  in  England, 
and  that  you  did  not  detest  the  whole  thing  !" 

The  words  had  a  far-away  familiar  sound  to 
Christina,  and  they  were  spoken  in  the  pointed 
accents  with  which  one  quotes. 

"  Did  I  say  I  should  detest  the  whole 
thing?"  asked  Christina,  marking  the  table- 
cloth with  a  fork. 

"  You  did  ;  they  were  your  very  words." 

"Come,  I  don't  believe  that." 

"  I  can't  help  it ;  those  were  your  words. 
Thev  were  vour  very  last  words  to  me." 

*  rf  ^ 

"  And  you  actually  remember  them  ?  " 


344  TINY  lUTTHELL, 

She  looked  at  him,  smiling ;  but  his  face  put 
out  her  smile,  and  the  wave  of  compassion 
which  now  swept  over  hers  confirmed  the 
knowledge  that  had  come  to  him  with  her  first 
frigfhtened  orlancc. 

The  storekeeper,  who  came  In  before  more 
was  said,  was  the  unconscious  witness  of  a  well- 
acted  interlude  of  which  he  was  also  the  cause. 
He  approved  of  Miss  Luttrell  at  tlie  tea  tray, 
and  was  to  some  extent  recompensed  for  the 
hard  day's  work  he  had  not  done.  He  left  her 
with  Swift  on  the  back  veranda,  and  they 
might  have  been  grateful  to  him,  for  not  only 
had  his  advent  been  a  boon  to  them  both  at  a 
very  awkward  moment,  but,  in  going,  he  sup- 
plied them  with  a  topic. 

"  What  has  happened  to  my  little  English- 
man ?  "  Christina  asked  at  once.  "  I  hoped  to 
find  him  here  still." 

"  I  wish  you  had.  He  was  a  fine  fellow,  and 
this  one  is  not." 

"  Then  you  didn't  mean  to  get  rid  of  my 
little  friend  ?  " 

"  No.  It's  a  very  pretty  story,"  Swift  said 
slowly,  as  he  watched  her  in  the  starlight. 
"  His  father  died,  and  he  went  home  and  came 
in  for  something ;  and  now  that  little  chap   is 


A   DEAF  EAR.  345 

actually  married  to  the  girl  he  used  to  talk 
about ! " 

Tiny  was  silent  for  some  moments.  Then 
she  laughed. 

*' So  much  for  my  advice  !  His  case  is  the 
exception  that  proves  my  rule." 

"  I  happen  to  remember  your  advice.  So 
you  still  think  the  same  ?" 

"  Most  certainly  I  do." 

He  laughed  sardonically.  "You  might  just 
as  well  tell  me  outright  that  you  are  engaged 
to  be  married." 

The  girl  recoiled. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  she  cried.  "Who 
has  told  you  ?" 

"  You  have — now.  Your  eyes  told  me 
twenty  minutes  ago." 

"  But  it  isn't  true  !  Nobody  knows  any- 
thing about  it  !  It  isn't  a  real  engagement 
yet ! " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  it  will  be  real  enouo-h  for 

o 

me,"  answered  Swift  very  bitterly  ;  and  he 
moved  away  from  her,  though  her  little  hands 
were  stretched  out  to  keep  him. 

"  Don't  leave  me  !  "  she  cried  piteously.  "  I 
want  to  tell  you.  I  will  tell  you  now,  if  you 
will  only  let  me," 


34^  riNY  LUTTRELL. 

He  faced  about,  with  one  foot  on  the 
veranda  and  the  other  in  the  sand. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  said,  "  if  it  is  that  old  affair 
come  right  ;  that  is  all  I  care  to  know." 

"  It  is  ;  but  it  hasn't  come  right  yet — per- 
haps it  never  will.  If  only  you  would  let  me 
tell  you  everything  !  " 

"Thank  you;  I  dare  say  I  can  imagine 
how  matters  stand.  I  think  I  told  you  it 
would  all  come  right.     I  am  very  glad  it  has." 

"Jack!" 

But  Jack  was  gone.  In  the  starlight  she 
watched  him  disappear  among  the  pines.  He 
walked  so  slowly  that  she  fancied  him  whis- 
tling, and  would  have  given  very  much  for 
some  such  sign  of  outward  indifference  to 
show  that  he  cared  ;  but  no  sound  came  to  her 
save  the  chirrup  of  the  crickets,  which  never 
ceased  in  the  night  time  at  Wallandoon.  And 
that  made  her  listen  for  the  champing  of  the 
solitary  animal  in  the  horse  yard,  until  she 
heard  it,  too,  and  stood  still  to  listen  to  both 
noises  of  the  night.  She  remembered  how 
once  or  twice  in  England  she  had  seemed  to 
hear  these  two  sounds,  and  how  she  had 
longed  to  be  back  again  in  the  old  veranda. 
Now  she  was    back.     This  was   the   old,  old 


A    DEAF  EAR.  347 

veranda.  And  those  two  old  sounds  were 
beating  into  her  brain  in  very  reality — with- 
out pause  or  pity. 

"Why,  Tiny,"  said  Herbert  later,  "this  is 
the  second  time  to-day  !  I  believe  you  can 
sleep  on  end  like  a  blooming  native-compan- 
ion. You're  to  come  and  talk  to  the  gov- 
ernor ;  he  would  like  you  to  sit  with  him  be- 
fore we  carry  him  into  his  room." 

"Would  he?"  Tiny  cried  out,  and  a  mo- 
ment  later  she  was  kneeling  by  the  deck  chair 
and  sobbing  wildly  on  her  father's  breast. 

"Just  because  I  told  her  she'd  dish  herself," 
remarked  Herbert,  looking  on  with  irritation, 
"  she's  been  and  gone  and  done  it.  That's 
still  her  line !" 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

SUMMUM    BONUM. 

For  a  month  Christina  declined  to  leave 
her  father's  side,  much  against  his  will,  but  the 
girl's  will  was  stronger.  She  was  as  though 
tethered  to  the  lonor  deck  chair  until  the  lame 
man  became  able  to  leave  it  on  two  sticks. 
Then  she  flew  to  the  other  extreme. 

North  of  the  Lachlan  the  recent  rains  had 
been  less  heavy  than  in  Lower  Riverina.  On 
Wallandoon  less  than  two  inches  had  fallen, 
and  by  February  it  was  found  necessary  to 
resume  work  at  the  eieht-mile  whim.  But  the 
whim  driver  had  eone  ofT  with  his  check  when 
the  rain  gave  him  a  holiday,  and  he  had  never 
returned.  There  was  a  momentary  difficulty 
in  finding  a  man  to  replace  him,  and  it  was 
tlien  that  Miss  Tiny  startled  the  station  by 
herself  volunteering  for  the  post.  At  first  Mr. 
Luttrell  would  not  hear  of  the  plan,  but  the 
manager's  opinion  was  not  asked,  and  he  care- 
fully refrained  from  giving  it,  while  Herbert 

348 


SUMMUM  BONUM.  349 

(who  was  about  to  be  intrusted  with  a  mob  of 
wethers  for  the  Melbourne  market)  took  his 
sister's  side.  He  pointed  out  with  truth  that 
any  fool  could  drive  a  whim  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  and  that,  as  Tiny  would  hardly 
petition  to  sleep  at  the  whim,  the  long  ride 
morning  and  evening  would  do  her  no  harm. 
Mr.  Luttrell  orave  in  then.  He  had  tried  in 
vain  to  drive  the  young  girl  from  his  side. 
She  had  watched  over  him  with  increasing 
solicitude,  with  an  almost  unnatural  tender- 
ness. She  had  shown  him  a  warmer  heart 
than  heretofore  he  had  known  her  to  possess, 
and  an  amount  of  love  and  affection  which  he 
felt  to  be  more  than  a  father's  share.  He  did 
not  know  what  was  the  matter,  but  he  made 
guesses.  It  had  been  his  lifelong  practice  not 
to  "  interfere "  v/ith  his  children  ;  hence  the 
earliest  misdeeds  of  his  daughter  Tiny  ;  hence, 
also,  the  academic  career  of  his  son  Herbert. - 
Mr.  Luttrell  put  no  questions  to  the  girl,  and 
none  concerning  her  to  her  brother,  which  was 
nice  of  him,  seeing  that  her  ways  had  made 
him  privately  inquisitive  ;  but  he  took  Her- 
bert's advice  and  let  Christina  drive  the 
eight-mile  whim. 

The  experiment  proved  a  complete  success, 


35°  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

but  then  plain  whim  driving  is  not  difficult. 
Christina  spent  an  hour  or  so  two  or  three 
times  a  day  in  driving  the  whim  horse  round 
and  round  until  the  tank  was  full,  after  which 
it  was  no  trouble  to  keep  the  troughs  properly- 
supplied.  The  rest  of  her  time  she  occupied 
in  reading  or  musing  in  the  shadow  of  the 
tank  ;  but  each  day  she  boiled  her  "  billy  "  in 
the  hut,  eating  very  heartily  in  her  seclusion, 
and  delighting  more  and  more  in  the  tempo- 
rary freedom  of  her  existence,  as  a  boy  in  hol- 
idays that  are  drawing  to  an  end.  The  whim 
stood  high  on  a  plain,  the  wind  whistled 
through  its  timbers,  and  each  evening  the  girl 
brought  back  to  the  homestead  a  higher  color 
and  a  lighter  step.  In  these  days,  however, 
very  little  was  seen  of  her.  She  would  come 
in  tired,  and  soon  secrete  herself  within  four 
newspapered  walls  ;  and  she  went  out  of  her 
way  to  discourage  visitors  at  the  whim.  Of 
this  she  made  such  a  point  that  the  manager, 
on  coming  in  earlier  than  usual  one  afternoon, 
was  surprised  v/hen  Herbert,  whom  he  met 
riding  out  from  the  station,  informed  him  that 
he  was  on  his  way  to  the  eight-mile  to  look  up 
the  whim  driver.  Herbert  seemed  to  have 
something  on  his  mind,  and  presently  he  told 


SUM  MUM  BONUM.  351 

Swift  what  it  was.  He  had  awkward  news  for 
Tiny,  which  he  had  decided  to  tell  her  at  once 
and  be  done  with  it.  But  he  did  not  like  the 
job.  He  liked  it  so  little  that  he  went  the 
length  of  confiding  in  Swift  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  news.  The  manager  annoyed  him — he 
had  not  a  remark  to  make. 

Herbert  rode  moodily  on  his  way.  He  was 
sorry  that  he  had  spoken  to  Swift  (whose 
stolid  demeanor  was  a  surprise  to  him,  as  well 
as  an  irritation)  ;  he  had  undoubtedly  spoken 
too  freely.  With  Swift  still  in  his  thoughts, 
Luttrell  was  within  a  mile  of  the  whim,  and 
cantering  gently,  before  he  became  aware  that 
another  rider  was  overtaking  him  at  a  gallop  ; 
and  as  he  turned  in  his  saddle,  the  manager 
himself  bore  down  upon  him  with  a  strange 
look  in  his  good  eyes. 

"  I  want  you  to  let  me — tell  Tiny ! "  Jack 
Swift  said  hoarsely,  as  Herbert  stared.  Jack's 
was  a  look  of  pure  appeal. 

"You?" 

"  Yes You  understand  ?  " 

"  That's  all  riglit !  I  thought  I  couldn't  have 
been  mistaken,"  said  Herbert,  still  looking  him 
in  the  eyes.  "  By  ghost.  Jack,  you're  a 
sportsman  ! " 


352  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

He  held  out  his  hand,  and  Swift  gripped  it. 
In  another  minute  they  were  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  apart  ;  but  it  was  Swift  who  was  riding 
on  tp  the  whim,  very  slowly  now,  and  with  his 
eyes  on  the  black  timbers  rising  clear  of  the 
sand  against  the  sky.  He  could  never  look  at 
them  without  hearing  words  and  tones  that  it 
was  still  bitter  to  remember ;  and  now  he  was 
going — to  break  bad  news  to  Tiny  ?  That 
was  his  undertaking. 

He  found  the  whim  driver  with  her  book  in 
the  shadow  of  the  tank. 

"  Good-afternoon,"  Christina  said  very  civ- 
illy, though  her  eyebrows  had  arched  at  the 
sight  of  him.  "  Have  you  come  to  see 
whether  the  troughs  are  full,  or  am  I  wanted 
at  the  homestead  ?  " 

"  Neither,"  said  Swift,  smiling  ;  "  only  the 
mail  is  in,  and  there  are  letters  from  Eng- 
land." 

"  How  good  of  you!"  exclaimed  the  girl, 
holding  out  her  hand. 

Swift  was  embarrassed. 

"  Now  you  will  pitch  into  me !  I  haven't 
seen  the  letters,  and  I  don't  know  whether  there 
is  one  for  you  :  but  I  met  Herbert,  and  he 
told  me  he  had  heard  from  your  sister  ;  and 


SUMMUM  BONUM.  353 

—and  I  thought  you  might  like  to  hear  that, 
as  I  was  coming  this  way." 

"  It  is  still  good  of  you,"  said  Christina 
kindly  ;  and  that  made  him  honest. 

**  It  isn't  a  bit  good,  because  I  came  this 
way  to  speak  to  you  about  something  else." 

"Really?" 

"  Yes,  because  one  sees  so  little  of  you  now, 
and  soon  you  will  be  going.  The  truth  is 
something  has  been  rankling  with  me  ever 
since  the  night  you  arrived — nothing  you  said 
to  me  ;  it  was   my  own  behavior  to  you " 

"  Which  wasn't  pretty,"  interrupted  Tiny. 

"  I  know  it  wasn't ;  I  have  been  very  sorry 
for  it.  When  you  offered  to  tell  me  about 
your  engagement  I  wouldn't  listen.  I  would 
listen  now  !  " 

"  And  now  I  shouldn't  dream  of  telling  you 
a  word,"  Tiny  said,  staring  coolly  in  his  face ; 
"not  even  if  I  were  engaged." 

"  Well,  it  amounts  to  that,"  Swift  told  her 
steadfastly,  for  he  knew  what  he  meant  to  say, 
and  was  not  to  be  deterred  by  the  snubs  and 
worse  to  which  he  was  knowingly  laying  him- 
self open. 

"  Pray  how  do  you  know  what  it  amounts 
to  ?  " 


354  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  On  your  side,  at  any  rate,  it  amounts 
to  an  engagement  ;  for  you  consider  yourself 
bound." 

"  Upon  my  word  ! "  cried  Tiny  hastily. 
"  Do  you  mind  telling  me  how  you  come  to 
know  so  much  about  my  affairs?" 

"  I  am  naturally  interested  in  them  after  all 
these  years." 

"How  very  kind  of  you  !  How  interested 
you  were  when  I  foolishly  offered  to  tell  you 
myself!  So  you  have  been  talking  me  over 
with  Herbert,  have  you?" 

"  We  have  spoken  about  you  to-day  for  the 
first  time  ,-  that  is  why  I'm  here." 

Christina  was  white  with  anger. 

"  And  I  suppose,"  she  sneered,  "  that  you 
have  told  him  things  which  I  have  forgotten, 
and  which  you  might  have  forgotten  as  well !" 

"  I  don't  think  you  do  suppose  that,"  Swift 
said  gently.  "  No,  he  merely  told  me  about 
your  engagement." 

"  Then  why  do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  ?" 

"  Because  you  alone  can  tell  me  what  I 
most  want  to  know." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  " 

"  Yes — whether  you  are  happy  ! " 

She  had  found  her  temper,  which   enabled 


SUMMUM  BONUM.  355 

her  to  put  a  keener  edge  on  the  words,  "  That, 
I  should  say,  is  not  your  business  "  ;  and  she 
stared  at  Swift  coldly  where  he  stood,  with  his 
hands  behind  him,  looking  down  upon  her 
without  wincing. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure,"  said  he  sturdily.  "  I  loved 
you   dearly  ;  /  could  have  made  you  happy." 

"  It  is  well  you  think  so,"  was  the  best 
answer  she  could  think  of  for  that ;  and  she  did 
not  think  of  it  at  once.  "  Do  you  know  who 
he  is?"  she  added  later. 

"  Herbert  told  me.  It  seems  you  have 
tampered  with  a  splendid  chance." 

"  I  have  tampered  with  three.  I  shall  jump 
at  the  next — if  I  get  another." 

"  And  if  you  don't  ?" 

Involuntarily  she  drew  a  deep  breath  at  the 
thought.  Her  head  was  lifted,  and  her  blue 
eyes  wandered  over  the  yellow  distance  of  the 
plains  with  the  look  of  a  prisoner  coming  back 
into  the  world. 

"  Nobody  could  blame  him,"  she  said  at  last, 
"and  I  should  be  rightly  served." 

Swift  crouched  in  front  of  her,  almost  sitting 
on  his  heels  to  peer  into  her  face. 

"  Tiny,"  he  suddenly  cried,  "  you  don't  love 
him  one  bit !" 


356  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

"  But  I  think  he  loves  me,"  she  answered, 
hanging  her  head,  for  he  held  her  hand. 

"  Not  as  I  do.  Tiny !  Never  as  I  have 
done  !  I  have  loved  you  all  the  time,  and 
never  anyone  but  you.  And  you — you  care 
for  me  best ;  I  see  it  in  your  eyes ;  I  feel  it  in 
your  hand.  Don't  you  think  that  you,  too, 
may  have  loved  me  all  the  time  ? " 

"  If  I  have,"  she  murmured,  "  it  has  been 
without  knowing  it." 

It  was  without  knowing  it  that  she  trod 
upon  the  truth.     Their  voices  were  trembling. 

"  Darling,"  he  whispered,  "  this  would  be 
home  to  you.  It's  the  same  old  Wallandoon. 
You  love  it,  I  know ;  and  I  think — you 
love 

She  snatched  her  hand  from  his,  and  sprang 
to  her  feet.  He,  too,  rose  astounded,  gazing 
on  every  side  to  see  who  was  coming.  But 
the  plain  was  flecked  only  with  straggling 
sheep,  bleating  to  the  troughs..  His  gaze 
came  back  to  the  girl.  Her  straw  hat  sharply 
shadowed  her  face  like  a  highwayman's  mask, 
her  blue  eyes  flashing  in  the  midst  of  it,  and 
her  lips  below  parted  in  passion. 

"You  ?  I  hate  you  !  I  do  consider  myself 
bound,   and   you   would  make   me  false — you 


SUM  MUM   BO  NUM.  3^7 

would  tempt  me  through  my  love  for  the 
bush,  for  this  place — you  coward  ! " 

Swift  reddened,  and  there  was  roughness  in 
his  answer  : 

"  I  can't  stand  this,  even  from  you.  I  have 
heard  that  all  women  are  unfair ;  you  are,  cer- 
tainl)'.  What  you  say  about  my  tempting  you 
is  nonsense.  You  have  shown  me  that  you 
love  me,  and  that  you  don't  love  the  other 
man  ;  you  know  you  have.  You  have  now  to 
show  whether  you  have  the  courage  of  your 
love — to  give  him  up — to  marry  me." 

This  method  must  have  had  its  attractions 
after  another's  ;  but  it  hurt,  because  Tiny  was 
sensitive,  with  all  her  sins. 

"  You  have  spoken  very  cruelly,"  she  fal- 
tered, delightfully  forgetting  how  she  had 
spoken  herself.  "  I  could  not  marry  anyone 
who  spoke  to  me  like  that !  " 

"  Oh,  forgive  me  !  "  he  cried,  covered  with 
contrition  in  an  instant.      "  I  am  a  rough  brute, 

but  I  promise "     He  stopped,  for  her  head 

had  drooped,  and  she  seemed  to  be  crying. 
He  stood  away  from  her  in  his  shame.  "Yes, 
I  am  a  rough  brute,"  he  repeated  bitterly ; 
"but,  darling,  you  don't  know  how  it  roughens 
one,  bossino^  the  men  !" 


358  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

Still  she  hung  her  head,  but  within  the 
widened  shadow  of  her  hat  he  saw  her  red 
mouth  twitching  at  his  clumsiness.  Yet,  when 
she  raised  her  face,  her  smile  astonished  him, 
it  was  so  timorous  ;  and  the  wondrous  shyness 
in  her  lovely  eyes  abashed  him  far  more  than 
her  tears. 

"  I  dare  say — I  need  that !  "  he  heard  her 
whisper  in  spurts.  "  I  think  I  should  like — 
you — to  boss — me — too." 

These  things  and  others  were  tersely  told  in 
a  letter  written  in  the  hot  blast  of  a  north  wind 
at  Wallandoon,  and  delivered  in  London  six 
weeks  later,  damp  with  the  rain  of  early  April. 
The  letter  arrived  by  the  last  post,  and  Ruth 
read  it  on  the  sofa  in  her  husband's  den,  while 
Erskine  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  listen- 
ing to  the  sentences  she  read  aloud,  but  say- 
ing little. 

"  So  you  see,"  said  Ruth  as  she  put  the  thin 
sheets  together  and  replaced  them  in  their 
envelope,  "she  accepted  him  before  she  knew 
of  Lord  Manister's  engagement.  He  knew  of  it, 
and  had  undertaken  to  tell  her,  but  that  was  only 
to  give  himself  a  last  chance.  Had  she  heard 
of  it  first  he  would  never  have  spoken  again." 


SUMMUM  BONUM.  359 

"  I  question  that,"  Erskine  said  thought- 
fully. "  He  might  not  have  spoken  so  soon ; 
but  his  love  would  have  proved  stronger  than 
his  pride  in  the  end.  Yet  I  like  him  for  his 
pride.  That  was  what  she  needed,  and  what 
Manister  lacked.      It  is  very  curious." 

"■  I  wonder  if  you  really  would  like  him," 
said  Ruth,  who  no  longer  cared  for  the  sound 
of  Lord  Manister'sname.  "  I  don't  remember 
much  about  him,  except  that  we  ail  thought  a 
good  deal  of  him  ;  but  somehow  I  don't  fancy 
he's  your  sort." 

"  I  wasn't  aware  that  I  had  a  sort,"  Erskine 
said,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  but  you  have.  /  am  not  your  sort. 
But  Tiny  was  ! " 

He  laughed  heartily. 

"  Then  we  four  have  chosen  sides  most 
excellently  !  It  is  quite  fatal  to  marry  your 
own  sort.      Didn't  you  know  that,  my  dear?" 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  said  Ruth,  watching  him 
from  the  sofa;  "but  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it, 
and  I  quite  agree.  You  and  Tiny,  for  instance, 
would  have  jeered  at"  everything  in  life  until 
you  were  left  jeering  at  one  another.  Don't 
you  think  so  ? "  she  added  wistfully,  after  a 
pause. 


36o  TIMY  LUfTRELL. 

"  I  think  you're  an  uncommonly  shrewd 
little  person,"  Erskine  remarked,  smiling  down 
upon  her  kindly,  so  that  her  face  shone  with 
pleasure. 

"Do  you  ?"  she  said,  as   he  helped  her   to 
rise.     "  You  used  to  think  me  so  dense  when 
Tiny  was  here  ;  and  I  dare  say  I  was — beside 
1  my. 

"  My  dearest  girl,"  said  Erskine,  taking  his 
wife  in  ,his  arms,  and  speaking  in  a  troubled 
tone,  "you  have  never  said  that  sort  of  thing 
before,  and  I  hope  you  never  will  again.  Tiny 
was  Tiny — our  Tiny — but  surely  wisdom  was 
not  her  strongest  point  ?  She  amused  us  all 
because  she  wasn't  quite  like  other  people ; 
but  how  often  am  I  to  tell  you  that  I  am  thank- 
ful you  are  not  like  Tiny  ? " 

"Ah,  if  you  really  were  !"  Ruth  whispered 
on  his  shoulder. 

"  But  I  always  was,"  he  answered,  kissing 
her  ;  and  they  smiled  at  one  another  until  the 
door  was  shut  and  Ruth  had  gone,  for  there 
was  now  between  them  an  exceeding  tender- 
ness. 

Ruth  had  left  him  her  letter,  so  that  he 
might  read  it  for  himself ;  but  though  he  lit  a 
pipe  and  sat  down,    it   was  some  time  before 


SUM  MUM  BONUM.  3^1 

Erskine  read  anything.  Had  Ruth  returned 
and  asked  him  for  his  thoughts,  he  would  have 
confessed  that  he  was  wondering  whether 
Tiny's  husband  would  understand  the  girl  he 
had  managed  to  tame  ;  and  whether  he  had  a 
fine  ear  for  a  joke.  As  wondering  would  not 
tell  him,  he  at  length  turned  to  the  letter  ; 
and  that  did  not  tell  him  either  ;  but  before  he 
turned  the  first  of  the  many  leaves,  it  was  as 
thouofh  the  child  herself  was  beside  him  in  the 
room. 

The  qualities  she  mentioned  in  her  beloved 
were  all  of  a  serious  character,  and  the  praises 
she  bestowed  upon  him,  at  her  own  expense, 
were  a  little  tiresome  to  one  who  did  not  know 
the  man.  Erskine  turned  over  with  excusable 
impatience,  and  was  rewarded  on  the  next 
page  by  a  sufficiently  just  summary  of  Lord 
Manister ;  even  here,  however,  Tiny  took 
occasion  to  be  very  hard  on  herself.  She 
declared — possibly  5ihe  would  have  said  it  in 
any  case,  but  it  happened  to  be  true — that  she 
had  never  loved  Lord  Manister.  On  the  way 
she  had  ill-used  him  she  harped  no  more  ;  his 
own  solution  of  his  difficulties  had,  indeed, 
broken  that  string.  But  she  spoke  of  her 
"  temptation  "  (incidentally  remarking  that  the 


362  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

hall  windows  haunted  her  still),  and  said  she 
would  perhaps  have  yielded  to  it  outright  but 
for  her  visit  to  Wallandoon  before  sailing  for 
Enofland :  and  that  she  would  certainly  have 
done  so  at  the  third  asking  had  it  not  been 
for  that  stronger  temptation  to  go  back  with 
Herbert  to  Australia.  As  it  was,  she  had  gone 
back  fully  determined  to  marry  Lord  Manister 
in  the  end.  And  if  that  decision  had  been 
furthered  to  the  smallest  extent  by  any  sort  of 
consideration  for  another,  she  did  not  say  so  ; 
neither  did  she  seek  to  defend  her  own  behav- 
ior at  any  point,  for  this  was  not  Tiny's  way. 
However,  with  Jack  she  had  burned  to  justify 
herself,  because  love  puts  an  end  to  one's 
ways.  She  had  longed  to  tell  him  everything 
with  her  own  lips,  and  to  have  him  forgive 
and  excuse  her  on  the  spot.  This  she  admitted. 
But  she  denied  having  known  what  her  unrea- 
sonable longing  really  was.  Did  Ruth  remem- 
ber the  "  burning  of  the  boats"  at  Cintra  ? 
Well,  she  had  spoken  the  truth  about  Jack 
then  ;  she  had  never  "  known  "  until  the  night 
of  her  last  arrival  at  the  station  ;  she  had  never 
been  quite  miserable  until  the  succeeding  days. 
Reverting  to  Manister,  she  supposed  the  dis- 
covery of  her  departure  the  day  after  their 


SUMMUM  BONUM.  Z(>Z 

interview — in  which  she  had  studiously  re- 
frained from  revealing  its  imminence — had 
proved  the  last  straw  with  him  ;  she  added 
that  such  a  result  had  been  vaguely  in  her 
mind  at  the  time,  but  that  she  had  never  really 
admitted  it  among  her  hopes.  Yet  it  seemed 
she  had  cured  him  just  when  she  gave  him  up 
for  incurable — and  how  thankful  she  was  ! 
A  well-felt  word  about  Lord  Manister's  future 
happiness  and  so  on  led  her  to  her  own  ;  and 
Erskine  slid  his  eye  over  that,  but  had  it 
arrested  by  a  loving  little  description  of  the 
old  home  to  which  she  was  coming  back  for 
good.  It  was  a  hot  wind  as  she  wrote,  and  the 
beginning  of  a  word  dried  before  she  got  to 
the  end  of  it- — so  she  afifirmed.  The  roof  was 
cracklinof  and  the  shadows  in  the  yard  were 
like  tanks  of  ink.  Out  on  the  run  the  salt- 
bush  still  looked  healthy  after  the  rains.  She 
had  given  up  whim  driving  ;  the  manager  had 
put  in  his  word.  But  she  was  taking  long 
rides,  all  by  herself  ;  and  the  lonely  grandeur 
of  the  bush  appealed  to  her  just  as  it  had 
when  she  first  came  back  to  it  nearly  a  year 
ago  ;  and  the  deep  sky  and  yellow  distances 
and  dull  leaves  were  all  her  eyes  required  ; 
and    she   thought  this    was  the     one    place 


364  TINY  LUTTRELL. 

in   the  world  where    it  would  be  easy  to  be 
good. 

The  letter  came  rather  suddenly  to  its  end. 
There  were  some  very  kind  words  about  him- 
self, which  Erskine  read  more  than  once. 
Then  he  sat  staring  into  the  fire,  until,  by 
some  fancy's  trick,  the  red  coals  turned  pale 
and  took  the  shape  of  a  girl's  sweet  face  with 
blemishes  that  only  made  it  sweeter,  with  dark 
hair,  and  generous  lips,  and  eyes  like  her  own 
Australian  sky.  And  the  eyes  lightened  with 
fun  and  with  mischief,  with  recklessness,  and 
bitterness,  and  temper ;  and  in  each  light  they 
were  more  lovable  than  before  ;  but  last  of  all 
they  beamed  clear  and  tranquil  as  the  blue  sea 
becalmed  ;  and  in  their  depths  there  shone  a 
soul. 


THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


PKbOlt).        H  ^84T     1900 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  EACILITY 


AA    000  381  714    5 


